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A..i!sjaainYtli. Thxx. 



v\U.C§iilds 



'^^TBiEMBT :B'id'ft: 



B'lomif^ 



rirEusiiF.Tii er B.auTsiAsr. 



THE 

■'.<■ 

OF 

ROBERT BURNS: 

WITH 

SEVERAL PIECES NEVER BEFORE PUBLISHED; 
NOTES ILLUSTRATIVE OF HIS POEMS, 

AND 

DEFINITIONS OF ALL 

THE SCOTTISH VS^ORDS AND PHRASES. 

TO WHICH IS PREFIXED, 

AN ACCOUNT OF HIS LIFE : 

AND Also 

A VIEW OF HIS CHARACTER 
BY GILBERT BURNS. 



PHILADELPHIA: 

PUBLISHED BY B. CHAPMAN. 
Abm. Small^ Phintih. 

1823. 







Eastern District of Pennsylvania^ to wit: 

BE IT REMEMBERED, that on the second day of April, in ibe 
fortj -seventh yt-ar of the imlependence of tlie United States of 
[SEA^ j America, A. D. 1823, Benjamin Chapman, of tlie said District 
f*'T^§-'' hath deposited in this office the Title of a book, the right where- 
of he claitnl as Proprietor, in the words following, to wit: 

The Poetical Works of Robert Btirns : -with several Pieces never before 
Published; JVotes illustrative of his Poems, and definitions of all the 
Scottish Words and Phrases. To -which is prefixed. An Account 
of his Life : And also a View of his Character, by Gilbert Burns. 

In Conformity to the Act of the Congress of the United States, intituled, 
" An Act for the Encouragement of Learning, by securing the Copies oi' 
Maps, Charts, and Books, to the Authors and Proprietors of such Copies, dur- 
ing the times therein mentioned ;" — And also to the Act, entitled, " An Act 
supplementary to an Act, entitled, " An Act for the Encouragement of 
Learning, by securing the Copies of Maps, Charts, and Books, to the Authors 
and Prnpiietors of such Copies during the times therein mentioned," and ex- 
tending the Benefits thereof to the Arts of designing, engraving, and etching 
historical and other prints." 

D. CALDWELL, 

Clerk of the Eastern District of Pennsylvania. 



"¥' 



TO THE 



NOBLEMEN AND GENTLEMEN 



CALEDONIAN HUNT. 

MY LORDS AND GENTLEMEN, 

A Scottish Bard, proud of the name, and whose high- 
est ambition is to sing in his Country's service — where shall 
he so properly look for patronage as to the illustrious names 
of his native land ; those who bear the honours and inherit 
the virtues of their ancestors ? The Poetic Genius of my 
Country found me as the prophetic bard Elijah did Elisha — 
at the Plough ; and threw her inspiring mantle over me. 
She bade me sing the loves, the joys, the rural scenes and 
rural pleasures of my native soil, in my native tongue : I 
tuned my wild, artless notes, as she inspired. — She whisp- 
ered me to come to this ancient Metropolis of Caledonia, 
and lay my songs under your honoured protection; I now 
obey her dictates. 

Though much indebted to your goodness, I do not ap- 
proach you, my Lords and Gentlemen, in the usual style of 
dedication, to thank you for past favours : that path is so 
hackneyed by prostituted learning, that honest rusticity is 
ashamed of it. Nor do I present this Address with the venal 
soul of a servile Autlior, looking for a continuation of those 
favours : I was bred to the plough and am independent. I 
come to claim the common Scottish name with you, my illus- 
trious countrymen ; and to tell the world that I glory in the 
title. I come to congratulate my Country, that the blood 
of her ancient Heroes still runs uncontaminated ; and that 
from your courage, knowledge, and public spirit, she may 



iv DEDICATION. 

expect protection, wealtli, and liberty. In the last place/ 1 
come to proffer my warmest wishes to the Great Fountain 
of Honour, the Monarch* of the Universe, for your welfare and 
happiness. 

When you go forth to waken the Echoes, in the ancient 
and favourite amusement of your Forefathers, may Pleasure 
ever be of your party ; and may social Joy await your re- 
turn ! When harassed in courts or camps with the justlings 
of bad men and bad measures, may the honest conscious- 
ness of injured Worth attend your return to your native 
seats ! and may Domestic Happiness, with a smiling wel- 
come, meet you at your gates ! May corruption shrink at 
your kindling indignant glance ; and may Tyranny in the 
Ruler, and Licentiousness, in the people, equally find you 
an inexorable foe ! 

I have the honour to be. 

With the sincerest gratitude, and highest respect. 

My Lords and Gentlemen, 

Your most devoted, humble servant, 

ROBERT BURNS. 



Edinburgh, > 
4th April, 179,7.1 



m 



lEiT?)TRlT?a^^^^^ 



The celebrity of Burns has been so long es- 
tablished that a recommendatory Preface to his 
works may be deemed superfluous- Suffice it 
however to say, that his undeniable merit has 
been more firmly established by the obloquy 
which prejudiced writers from time to time 
have attempted to affix to his name. The 
brilliancy of his genius, instead of being clouded 
by the most severe criticisms, has shone with 
greater splendour. The present diffiiring how- 
ever in several respects from former editions, 
some explanation may be reasonably expect- 
ed by the Reader. 

The life of the author hereunto prefixed, 
(which it is hoped will be found concise and 
satisfactory,) has been compiled from the best 
authorities purposely for this edition — accom- 
panied with the vindication of his character by 
his brother Gilbert, which must be gratifying 
to the feelings of every admirer of the illustri- 



vi PREFACE. 

ous Bard. All the Scottish words and phrases 
which occur in the course of the work, are 
fully explained in English immediately at the 
bottom of the pages in which they appear ; 
thus at once enhancing the facility and pleasure 
of reading the poems, and superceding the 
necessity of applying to a Glossary at the end 
of the book, which so frequently destroys the 
relish to the Reader. 

The illustrative notes which are given to 
many pieces, will be found useful and interest- 
ing. The arrangement of the pieces, is also 
different, being divided into four parts viz : 

Part I. Containing poems Descriptive, Hu- 
moiirous and Pathetic- 
Part II. Epistles. 
Part HI. Songs, and, 
Part IV. Miscellaneous Poetry- 

By this classification it is presumed the work 
will be more agreeable to the Reader than when 
the pieces are indiscriminately arranged. In 
this edition also will be found a greater num- 
ber of original pieces than in any hitherto 
published, several of which were taken from a 



PREFACE. vii 

late edition published by the Poet's brother 
Gilbert Burns, in Edinburgh ; and, also from 
the Reliques published by Cromeck. 

In addition to these, are others collected 
by the publisher from different persons in the 
course of his travels, which it is presumed will 
be found on perusal to possess indubitable 
characteristics of their imputed author- In 
line, this has been a work of considerable la- 
bour, and as no pains has been spared to ren- 
der the notes useful and interesting and to 
arrange the pieces in a tasteful manner — 
the publisher may venture to say, that the 
present edition of Burns' Poems is the most 
complete of any other that has yet been pub- 
lished. 



w^ 



#• 



THE LIFE 



IE(DIBI1IBS IBWIB]^g( 



THIS celebrated Bard, was born on the 25th of January* 
1759, on the banks of the Doon, about two miles from Ayr, 
near to which stand the ruins of Alloway Kirk, rendered im- 
mortal by his admii-able Tale of " Tarn o' Shanter." 

His father, William Burns, was a farmer in Ayrshire, a 
man of very respectable character, and of more than ordinary 
information and capacity. It is stated by Burns, that to his 
father's observation and experience, he was indebted for most 
of his little pretensions to wisdom. From such a son this 
culogium cannot be thought undeserving. In 1757, he mar- 
ried Agnes Brown. Our poet was the first fruit of this union. 
He was sent to school when about six years old, where he 
was taught to read English and write a little ; and so great 
was his progress, that he became a critic in English Grammar 
at the age of eleven, and was also remarkable for the correct- 
ness of his pronunciation. His rudiments of arithmetic he got 
from his father in the winter evenings. — He says of himself, 
in his letter to Dr. Moore, " At those years I was by no means 
a favourite with any body. — I was a good deal noted for a 
retentive memory, a stubborn, sturdy something in my dis- 
position, and an enthusiastic, ideot piety ; I say, ideot piety, 
because I was then but a child. — Though it cost the school- 
master some threshings, I made an excellent English scholar; 
and by the time I was ten or eleven years of age, I was a critic 
in substantives, verbs, and participles. — In my infant and 



• It is now satisfuctorily proved that our Poet was born on the 25th of Janu- 
ary, ai)d not on the 29th, as foimerly published. See vol. i. page 5", — and vol. 
ji. page 30, of Currie's 8ih London Edition, 1820, improved by G. Burns, also 
Soiig — "There was a lad was born in Ky!e,"8cc, Sonnet — "Singoa sweet 
tlirush," &c.,in this work. 

A 



11 THE LIFE OF 

boyish days too, I owed much to an old woman who resided 
in the family, remarkable for her Ignorance, credulity, and 
superstition. She had, I suppose, the largest collection in the 
country, of tales and songs concerning devils, ghosts, fairies, 
brownies, witches, warlocks, spunkies, kelpies, elf-candles, 
dead-lights, wraiths, apparitions, cantraips, giants, enchanted 
towers, dragons, and other trumpery. This cultivated the 
latent seeds of poetry ; but had so strong an effect on my im- 
agination, that to this hour, in my nocturnal rambles, I some- 
times keep a sharp look out in suspicious places ; and though 
nobody can be moye sceptical than I am in such matters, yet 
it often takes an effort of philosophy to shake off these idle 
terrors." 

Before he was nine years of age, he had acquired a strong 
propensity for reading, which, however, was greatly checked 
by his want of access to books. He read the life of Hanni- 
bal through with great avidity, and devoured every other book 
that came in his way, with an eagerness truly astonishing. 
Even at this early period, his sensibility was extraordinary; 
yet he had not discovered any signs of that striking ready 
wit, for which he was afterwards remarkable, nor betrayed 
the smallest symptom of his inclination to music and poetry. 
■^-Mr. Murdoch, to whom our Poet was indebted for the ru- 
diments of his education, remarks, that "Gilbert, (his brother) 
always appeared to me to possess a more lively imagination, 
and to be more of the wit than Robert. I attempted to teach 
them a little church-music. Here they were left far behind 
by all the rest of the school. Robert's ear, in particular, was 
remarkably dull, and his voice untunable. It was long before 
I could get him to distinguish one tune from another. — Ro- 
bert's face was generally grave, and^expressive of a serious^ 
contemplative, and thoughtful mind. — Gilbert's face said 
" Mirth, with thee I mean to live !" — and cei'tainly, if any 

,.«t person who knew the two boys, had been asked which of them 
i was the most likely to court the Muses, he would surely 
never have supposed that Robert had a propensity of that 
kind." From this gentleman he likewise got a little smat- 
tering of French, of which he was very fond. He was now 
so far grounded in his education, that after Mr. Murdoch left 
that part of the country, he, at his leisure hours, undertook 
instructing his younger brothers and sisters at home, in what 
he had himself acquired. 

At Whitsunday 1766, our poet's father, who for eight years 
acted as gardener and overseer to Mr. Fergusson of Doon- 

H^ holm, obtained from that gentleman a lease of the small farm 

of Mount Oliphant in Ayrshire, as an acknowledgement for 
his faithful services. He also advanced 100/., to enable him 



ROBERT BURNS. tu» 

to stock his farm. Here he continued to struggle for the 
support of his family, which consisted of a wife and six chil- 
dred, for the space of eleven years. The soil of this farm 
was extremely barren. This, with the loss of cattle and other 
accidents, involved them in many difficulties. To combat 
these, the whole family observed the most rigid economy, ab- 
staining from butcher-meat for years together, and toiling 
early and late. However, notwithstanding of all their joint 
exertions, it proved a ruinous concern. To add to their mis- 
fortunes, their patron and friend Mr. Fergusson died, and 
they fell into the hands of a merciless factor, whose picture 
is so ably drawn in the tale of the " Twa Dogs." 

The first circumstance which induced our Poet to string 
his lyre, and taught him to warble " wood notes wild" at the 
age of fifteen is extremely interesting. " This kind of life 
(says he in his letter to Dr. Moore,) — the cheerless gloom of 
a hermit, with the unceasing moil of a galley-slave, brought 
me to my sixteenth year ; a little before which period I first 
committed the sin of rhyme. You know our country custom 
of coupling a man and woman together, as partners in the 
labours of harvest. In my fifteenth autumn, my partner was 
a bewitching creature, a year younger than myself. My 
scarcity of English denies me the power of doing her justice 
in that language; but you know the Scottish idiom; 'she was 
a bonnie, sweet, sonsie lass.' In short, she altogether un- 
wittingly to herself, initiated me in that delicious passion, 
M^hich, in spite of acid disappointment, gin-horse prudence, 
and luke-warm philosophy, I hold to be the first of human 
joys, our dearest blessing here below. Indeed, I did not 
know myself why I liked so much to loiter behind with her, 
when returning in the evening from our labours ; why the 
tones of her voice made my heart-strings thrill, like an ka- 
lian harp, and particularly, why my pulse beat such a furious 
ratan, when I looked and fingered over her little hand, to 
pick out the cruel nettle-stings and thistles. 

" Thus, with me began love and poetry ; which at times 
have been my only, and till within the last twelve months, 
have been my highest enjoyment. 

" It is during the time that we lived on this farm, that my 
little story is most eventful. I was, at the beginning of this 
period, perhaps the most ungainly aukward boy in the parish 
— no solitaire was less acquainted with the world. What I 
knew of ancient story was gathered from Salmon's and Guth- 
rie's Geographical Grammars ; and the ideas I had formed of 
modern manners, of literature, and criticism, I got from the 
Spectator. A collection of songs was my vademecum. I 
pored over them driving my cart, or walking to labour, song 



IV THE LIFE OF 

by song, verse by verse ; carefully noting the true, tender, or 
sublime, from affectation and fustian. I am convinced I owe 
to this practice much of my critic-craft such as it is. 

" In my seventeenth year, to give my manners a brush, I 
went to a country dancing-school. My father had an unac- 
countable antipathy against these meetings, and my going 
was, what to this moment I repent, in opposition to his wishes. 
My father was subject to strong passions ; from that instance 
of disobedience in me, he took a dislike to me, which, I be- 
lieve, was one cause of the dissipation which marked my 
succeeding years. I say dissipation, comparatively with the 
strictness, and sobriety, and regularity of presbyterian coun- 
try life ; for though the will-o-wisp meteors of thoughtless 
whim were almost the sole lights of my path, yet early in- 
grained piety and virtue kept me several years afterwards 
within the line of innocence. The great misfortune of my 
life was to want an aim. I had felt early stirrings of ambition, 
but they were the blind gropings of Homer's Cyclops round 
the walls of his cave. I saw my father's situation entailed 
on me perpetual labour. The only two openings by which I 
could enter the temple of fortune, was the gate of niggardly 
economy, or the path of little chicaning bargain-making: 
The first is so contracted an aperture, I never could squeeze 
myself into it : the last I always hated — there was contami- 
nation in the very entrance. Thus abandoned of aim, or view 
in life, with a strong appetite for sociability, as well from na- 
tive hilarity, as from a pride of observation and remark ; a 
constitutional melancholy or hypochondriasm that made me 
fly solitude ; add to these incentives to social life, .my repu- 
tation for bookish knowledge, a certain wild logical talent, 
and strength of thought, something like the rudiments of good 
sense, and it will not seem surprising that I was generally a 
welcome guest where I visited, or any great wonder that al- 
ways where two or three met together, there was I among 
them. But far beyond all other impulses of my heart, was 
un pecchant a V adorable moitiee du genre hiivnain. My heart 
was completely tinder, and was eternally lighted up by some 
goddess or other; and as, in every other warfare in this world, 
my fortune was various, sometimes I was received with fa- 
vour, and sometimes I was mortified with a repulse. At the 
plough, scythe, or reap-hook, 1 feared no competitor, and 
thus I set absolute want at defiance ; and as I never cared 
farther for my labours than while I was in actual exercise, I 
spent the evenings in the way after my own heart. A coun- 
try lad seldom carries on a love-adventure without an assist- 
ing confidant. I possessed a curiosit3% zeal, and intrepid 
dexterity, that recommended me as a proper second on these 



ROBERT BURNS. v 

occasions; and, I dare say, I felt as much pleasure in being 
in the secret of half the loves of the parish of Tarbolton, as 
ever did statesman in knowing the intrigues of half the courts 
of Europe. — The very goose-feather in my hand, seems to 
know instinctively the well-worn path of my imagination, the 
favourite theme of my song ; and is with difficulty restrained 
from giving you a couple of paragraphs on the love-adven- 
tures of my compeers, the humble inmates of the farm-house 
and cottage ; but the grave sons of science, ambition, or ava- 
rice, baptize these things by the name of Follies." 

At Witsunday 1777, William Burns removed from Mount 
Oliphant to the famn of Lochlea, in the parish of Tarbolton, 
Here he and his family resided nearly seven years. During 
the whole of this period our poet continued to assist his fa- 
ther in the most laborious operations of the farm, in which, 
says his brother, he excelled all competitors. The lease, 
however, not being extended on stamp-paper, some misun- 
derstanding arose about the conditions, which were submit- 
ted to arbitration. The decision involved his father's affairs 
in ruin. His health, which had long been on the decline, 
from the joint effects of hard labour, poverty, and sorrow, 
now sunk under the pressure. " My father," says Robert, 
" was just saved from the horrors of a jail, by a consumption, 
which, after two years promises, kindly stepped in, and car- 
Kied him away, ' to where the wicked cease from troubling, 
and where the weary are at rest." 

About a twelvemonth previous to the death of his father. 
Burns, who had then attained his twenty-fourth year, be- 
came anxious to be fixed in a situation to enable him to mar- 
ry. His brother Gilbert and he, had for several years held 
a small portion of land from their father, on which they 
chiefly raised flax. In disposing of the produce of their la- 
bours, our Author took it into his head to commence flax- 
dresser. " My twenty -third year (says he) was to me an 
important era. Partly through whim, and partly that I 
wished to set about doing something in life, I joined 
a flax-dresser in a neighbouring town,* to learn his trade. 
This was an unlucky affair. My ***, and to finish the whole, 
as we were giving a welcoming carousal to the new year, the 
shop took fire and burnt to ashes, and I was left, like a true 
poet, not worth a sixpence." This combined with a disap- 
pointment in an attachment he had formed with a young wo- 
man, (who, in his letter to Dr. Moore, he says, " had jilted 
him, with peculiar circumstances of mortification,") threw 
him almost into a state of despair, which shadowed with a 
gloomy despondency a considerable period of his life, and iipi- 
duced him, in a strongly expressive letter to hia father, to 

* Irvin. 



vi THE LIFE OF 

declare his weariness of life, — and occasioned many error* 
in his future conduct, by forcing him to seek refuge from the 
keenness of his feeling, in company that he should have avoid- 
ed, to indulge in excesses which he detested, and to plunge 
into the pollution of inebriation, " over which (Dr. Currie ob- 
serves,) humanity and delicacy draw the veil." 

This complaint of "melancholy," or "low spirits," often 
induced him to retire from his companions, to indulge in so- 
litary walks, and to bury himself in the recesses of his native 
woods, — or " to ascend some eminence during the agitations 
of nature, to stride along its summit while the lightning flash- 
ed around him ; and amidst the bowlings of the tempest, to 
apostophise the spirit of the storm." 

" Though when young, (says his brother Gilbert,) he was 
bashful and aukward in his intercourse with women, yet when 
he approached manhood, his attachment to their society be- 
came very strong, and he was constantly the victim of some 
fair enslaver. — The symptoms of his passion were often such 
as nearly to equal those of the celebrated Sappho.— I never 
indeed knew that he 'fainted, sunk, and died away,' but the 
agitations of his mind and body exceeded any thing of the 
kind I ever knew in real life. — He had always a particular 
jealousy of people who were richer than himself, or who had 
more consequence in life. His love, therefore, rarely settled 
on persons of this description. When he selected any one 
out of the sovereignty of his good pleasure, to whom he should 
pay his particular attention, she was instantly invested with 
a sufficient stock of charms, out of the plentiful store of his 
own imagination ; and thei*e Avas often a great disimilitude 
between his fair captivator, as she appeared to others, and 
as she seemed when invested with theatti'ibuteshe gave her. 
One generally reigned pai'amout in his affections." 

In Irvine the first seeds were sown of his future irregula- 
rity in life. Here he became acquainted with several free- 
thinking, and as they termed themselves, liberal-minded com- 
panions, whose manner of life was quite the reverse of what 
he had hitherto been accustomed to. Here also he was en- 
tered a Free-Mason, which first introduced him to the life of 
a boon companion. Yet notwithstanding, all this, so frugal 
was he, for a considerable time afterwards, that his brother 
affirms, he had never seen him intoxicated ; but, on the con- 
trary, gives a striking proof of his general sobriety. — During 
the whole time they lived with their father in the farm of 
Lochlea, he and his brother were allowed the common wages 
for their labour, in part of which, all the articles of cloth- 
ing manufactured in the family were included and account- 
ed for. Immediately before the death of their father, 



ROBERT BURNS. vii 

they took the farm of Mossgiel, consisting of 118 acres, at 
90/. per annum. It was stocked by the property and indi- 
vidual savings of the whole family, and was a joint concern. 
The allowance to the two brothers was 7l. per annum each, 
and for four years at this time, as well as during the period 
of seven years residence with his mother at Lochlea, his ex- 
penditure never in any year exceeded his income. His tem- 
perance and frugality were every thing that could be wished. 

" I entered on this farm," says our Author in his letter to 
Dr. Moore, " with a full resolution, come, go to, I will be 
wise ! I read farming books ; I calculated crops ; I attended 
markets ; and in short in spite of the devil, and the world, 
and the flesh, I believe I should have been a wise man ; but 
the first year, from unfortunately buying bad seed, the se- 
cond from a late harvest, we lost half our crops. This over- 
set all my wisdom, and I returned, like the dog to his vomit, 
and the sow that was washen, to her wallowing in the mire." 

It was about this time that he formed the connection with 
Miss Jean Armour, afterwards Mrs. Burns. When the ef- 
fects of this intimacy could no longer be concealed, our Poet, 
in order to screen his partner from the consequences of their 
imprudence, agreed to make a written acknowledgement of 
their marriage, and then endeavour to push his fortune in 
Jamaica, till Providence enabled him to support a family com- 
fortably. This was, however, strenuously opposed by her 
relations ; and her father, with whom she was a great favour- 
ite, advised her to renounce every idea of such a union, con- 
ceiving that a husband in Jamaica was little better than none. 
She was therefore prevailed on to cancel the papers, and 
thus render the marriage null and void. When this was 
mentioned to Burns, he was in a state bordering on distrac- 
tion. He offered to stay at home, and provide for his family 
in the best manner possible ; but even this was rejected. He 
then agreed with a Dr. Douglas to go to Jamaica, as an as- 
sistant overseer or clerk, and made every preparation to cross 
the Atlantic. 

In the interim, urged by the solicitations of Mr. Gavin 
Hamilton (the gentleman to whom they were dedicated) and 
some other friends, he resolved to print his Poems at Kil- 
marnock by subscription. The event answered his highest 
expectations : what these expectations were, may be learnt 
from the letter to Dr. Moore, already quoted. ' To know 
myself (says he) had been all along my constant study. I 
weighed myself alone ; I balanced myself with others ; I 
watched every means of information, to see how much 
ground I occupied as a man and as a poet; I studied as- 
>ldr.oiisly nature's design in mv formation ; where the 



viii THE LIFE OF 

lights and shades in my character were intended. I 
was pretty confident my poems would meet with some ap- 
plause ; but at the worst, the roar of the Atlantic would 
deafen the voice of censure ; and the novelty of West 
Indian scenes make me forget neglect." — " My vanity was 
highly gratified by the reception I met with from the public ; i 
and besides I pocketed, all expences deducted, nearly 20/. 
This sum came very seasonably, as I was thinking of indent- 
ing myself, for want of money to procure my passage. As 
soon as I was master of nine guineas, the price of wafting me 
to the torrid zone, I took a steerage passage in the first ship 
that was to sail from the Clyde ; for 

"Hungry ruin had me in the wind." 

" I had been for some days sculking from covert to covert, 
under all the terrors of a jail ; as some ill-advised people had 
uncoupled the merciless pack of the law at my heels. I had 
taken the last farewell of my friends ; my chest was on the 
road to Greenock ; I had composed the last song I should 
ever measure in Caledonia. " The gloomy night is gathering 
fast," when a letter from Dr. Blacklock to a friend of mine, 
overthrew all my schemes, by opening new prospects to my 
poetic ambition. The Doctor belonged to a set of critics, for 
whose applause I had not dared to hope. His opinion, that 
I would meet with encouragement in Edinburgh for a second 
edition, fired me so much, that away I posted for that city, 
without a single acquaintance, or a single letter of intro- 
duction." 

Burns arrived at Edinburgh early in December 1786. His 
fame had reached the metropolis before him, and he was ca- 
ressed by every one into whose society he was introduced. 
He immediately began to prepare his poems for a second 
edition, which was to be considerably improved and enlarged. 
At this time, it might with justice be said, that " he was steep- 
ed in poverty to the very lips." The following circumstance^ 
which occurred only two months after his arrival, will there- 
fore do him the more honour. Hitherto no public mark of at 
tention had ever been paid to the memory of the young un- 
fortunate Fergusson, whose poetical abilities will never cease 
to be the theme of admiration, while a spark of true taste re- 
mains. Fired with just indignation at this national neglect. 
Burns addressed the following letter to the magistrates of 

Canongate, of date 6th February 1787. "Gentlemen, I 

am sorry to be told that the remains of Robert Fergusson, 
the so justly celebrated poet, a man whose talents for ages 
to come will do honour to our Caledonian name, lie in your 



ROBERT BURNS. ix 

church-yard among the ignoble dead, unnoticed and unknown, 
— Some memorial to direct the steps of the lovers of Scottish 
song, when they wish to shed a tear over the ' narrow house' 
of the bard who is no more, is surely a tribute due to Fergus - 
son's memory : a tribute I wish to have the honour of paying. 
— I petition you then, gentlemen, to permit me to lay a sim- 
ple stone over his rwered ashes, to remain an unalienable 
property to his deathless fame." 

On the 26th of the same month. Burns having got the re- 
quired permission, he caused a head-stone to be erected, at 
his sole expense, with the following inscription : — 

" Here lies ROBERT FERGUSSON, Poet. 

Born, September 5th, 1751 Died, l6tli October, 

1774. 

No sculptur'd marble here, nor pompous lay, 
* No storied urn nor animated bust ;' 

This simple stone directs pale Scotia's way 
To pour her sorrows o'er her Poet's dust." 

The following effusion of Burns, on this occasion, does ho- 
nour to his feelings : " Poor Fergusson ! If there is a life be- 
yond the grave, which I trust there is ; and if there be a good 
God presiding over all nature, which I am sure there is ; thou 
art now enjoying existence in a glorious world, where worth 
of the heart alone is distinction in the man ; where riches, 
deprived of all their pleasure-purchasing powers, return to 
their native sordid matter ; where titles and honours are dis- 
regarded, reveries of an idle dream ; and where that heavy 
virtue, which is the negative consequence of steady dulness, 
and those thoughtless, though often destructive follies, which 
are the unavoidable aberrations of frail human nature, will 
be thrown into equal oblivion as if they had never been !" 

On Wednesday the 22d of April 1787, the second edition 
made its public appearance. The fame of our Poet, which 
had hitherto begun to dawn, now burst forth in meridian splen- 
dor. From the palace to the cottage, nothing was heard but 
his praises : his company was universally courted, and every 
person vied with another in rendering him civilities. 

" The attention (says Professor Stewart,) which he receiv- 
ed during his stay in town, from all ranks and descriptions 
of persons, were such as would have turned any head but his 
own. I cannot say that I could perceive any unfavourable 
effects that they left on his mind. He retained the same 

B 



X THE LIFE OF 

simplicity of manners and appearance, which had struck me 
so forcibly when I first saw him in the country ; nor did he 
seem to feel any additional self-importance from the number 
and rank of his new acquaintance," 

Tiie late Principal Robertson, Dr. Blair, and many other 
eminent literary characters, paid him particular attention. 
He was introduced by the Earl of Glencairn to the festivals 
of the Caledonian Hunt ; and to the gentlemen who compos- 
ed it, he dedicated the improved and enlarged edition of his 
Poems. 

From the extraordinary success of this edition. Burns ac- 
quired a sum of money, which enabled him not only to indulge 
in the luxuries of the metropolis, but to gratify a long-formed 
propensity, for visiting those parts of his native country, which 
were either renowned in song, or celebrated for tlie beauty 
and sublimity of their scenery. Having spent some weeks 
in a delightful tour through the south of Scotland, and part 
of Northumberland, he returned to his friends in Ayrshire, 
after an absence of six months, by whom he was received 
with emotions of admiration and rapture. In July 1787, he 
again proceeded to Edinburgh, from whence he set out on a 
journey to the Highlands, in company with Dr. Adair of Har- 
rowgate. They rode by Linlithgow, visited the Carron works, 
and then proceeded to Stirling ; from thence they explored 
the romantic scenery of the Devon, in the shire of Clackman- 
nan, and beheld the much-admired falls of the Rumbling 
Bridge and Cauldron Linn. 

They returned to Edinburgh by Kinross, and stopped at 
Dunfermline, where they visited the magnificent ruins of that 
venerable Abbey. " In the church yard (says Dr. Adair,) two 
broad flag-stones marked the grave of Robert Bruce, for 
whose memory Burns had more than common veneration. 
He knelt and kissed the stone with sacred fervour, and hear- 
tily execrated the worse than Gothic neglect, of this first of 
Scottish heroes." 

These journeys, however so far from satisfying our Bard's 
curiosity, served only to redouble it. Accordingly about the 
end of August 1787, he again set off in a post-chaise from 
Edinburgh, on a more extensive tour to the Highlands, in com- 
pany with Mr. William Nicoi, one of the masters of the Edin- 
burgh Grammar School. This gentleman, who was indebted 
to his parents for little more than existence, had raised him- 
self by his own abilities and perseverance, to the highest pitch 
of classical eminence. 

Mr. Nicol and our poet, having in the course of this journey 
visited the most remarkable parts of the Highlands, as far 
North as Inverness, they returned along the shore of the 



ROBERT BURNS. xi 

tJerman ocean to Edinburgh, where Burns arrived on the 
irtli September, and spent the following winter, amid the gay 
and festive society of the metropolis. 

Towards the end of this year, he was seized with a severe 
attack of the rheumatism, which confined him upwards of six 
weeks to his room. His spirits became so low, that he was 
unable to read, write, or think. He thei'efore resolved to 
leave Edinburgh, as soon as the state of his heath would 
permit. 

Having settled accounts with his publisher, in February 
1788, Burns became master of nearly 500/. With this sum 
lie returned to Ayrshire, where he found his brother Gilbert 
struggling to support their aged mother, a younger brother, 
and three sisters, in the farm of Mossgiel. He immediately 
advanced 200/. to their relief. With the remainder, and what 
further profits might accrue to him from his poems, Burns 
seriously resolved to settle for life, and resume the occupa- 
tion of agriculture. 

Mr. Miller of Dalswinton, offered him the choice of a farm 
on his estate, at his own terms. Burns readily accepted this 
generous offer. He took with him two friends to value the 
land ,and fixed on the farm of Ellfisland, about six miles above 
Dumfries, on the banks of the Nith. — Previously to this pe- 
riod, however, he had been recommended to the Board of 
Excise, by Mr. Graham of Fintry, and had his name enrolled 
among the list of candidates, for the humble office of an excise 
man. Expecting that the Board would appoint him, to act in 
the district where his farm was situated, he began assiduously 
to qualify himself, for the proper exercise of this employment, 
in the fond hopes, of soon uniting with success, the labours of 
the farmer, with the duties of his new profession. 

It has already been observed that the heart of Burns was 
replete with honour and sensibility. Often would the forlorn 
condition of his " lovely Jean," obtrude on his mind, amid 
the gayest scenes of mirth and festivity, and imbitter all 
his enjoyments. No sooner had he arranged tlie plan of his 
future pursuits, than his whole thoughts were bent towards 
the object who had ever been nearest and dearest to his heart. 
Her relations now endeavoured to promote their union with 
more zeal than they had formerly opposed it : and they were 
immediately united by a regular marriage, and thus their 
union made permanent for life. 

By this laudable step, he not only restored that long lost 
tranquillity to the bosom of her he adored, but annihilated 
those corroding reflections which had often embittered his 
peace, even amid the gayest scenes of mirth and festivity. 
He had now found a comfortable residence for his family. 



xii THE LIFE OF 

Avhich he hoped would prove an asylum for his old age. As 
a Poet, his fame had reached the most distant corners of the 
earth. He had enlarged his happiness by relieving the wants 
of his aged mother, his brothers and sisters. He had seen 
the fleeting vanities of life, and resolved to bestow his whole 
future attention in promoting the welfare of his family. His 
resolutions at the actual time of his entering on his farm, 
and his confidence in their stability, appear in this extract 
from his common -place book. 

"Ellisland, Sunday, 14th June, 1788. 
" This is now the third day that I have been in this coun- 
try. Farewell now to those giddy follies, those vanished 

vices, which, though sanctified by the bewitching levity of wit 
and humour, are at best but thriftless idling with the precious 
current of existence ; nay, often poisoning the whole, that, 
like the plains of Jericho, the water is naught, and the ground 
barren, and nothing short of a supernaturally-gifted Elisha, 

can ever after heal the evils. Come then ! let me act up 

to my favourite motto, that glorious passage in Young : 

— ' On reason build resolve, 

That cohimti oCtruf Majesty in Man!" 

Had his family, as Dr. Currie observes, been with him du- 
ring the first part of his residence at Ellisland, it is probable 
their presence would have given strength to his resolutions. 
But their arrival was unavoidably delayed till towards the 
end of Autumn, and he took possession of his farm alone. 

In this pleasant retreat. Burns spent several happy months, 
amidst the polite attention and esteem of a genteel neigh- 
boui'hood. Their social parties, however, too often seduced 
him from his rustic labours, and his rustic fare, overthrew the 
unsteady fabric of his resolutions, and inflamed those pro- 
pensities which temperance might have weakened, and pru- 
dence ultimately suppressed. It was not long, therefore, be- 
fore Burns began to view his farm with dislike and despon- 
dency, if not with disgust. Unfortunately, too, he at length 
received his appointment as an exciseman. The duties of 
this disagreeable situation, besides exposing him to number- 
less temptations, occupied that part of his time which ought 
to have been bestowed in cultivating his farm ; which, after 
this, was in a great measure abandoned to servants. It is 
easy to conjecture the consequences. Notwithstanding the 
moderation of the rent, and the prudent management of Mrs. 
Burns, he found it convenient, if not necessary, to resign his 
farm into the hands of Mr. Miller, after having possessed it 



ROBERT BURNS. xiij 

for the space of three years and a half The stock and crop 
being afterwards sold by public auction, he removed, with 
his family, to a small house in Dumfries, about the end of the 
year 1791, to devote himself to an employment, which seem- 
ed from the first to afford little hopes of future happiness. 

He resided four years at Dumfries. During this time he 
had hoped for promotion in the excise ; but the eagerness in 
politics to which his warm feelings betrayed him, defeated 
these hopes. 

The extraordinary events which ushered in the revolution 
of France, were beheld with delight and astonishment by men 
in every corner of Europe. Burns's generous soul embraced 
with ardour those hopes of happiness which seemed to dawn 
upon mankind. And even after the career of guilt and of 
blood commenced, he could not immediately, it may be pre- 
sumed, withdraw his partial gaze from a people who had so 
lately breathed the sentiments of universal peace and be- 
nignity, or obliterate the ideas to which those sentiments had 
given birth. Under these impressions he did not always con- 
duct himself with the circumspection and prudence which 
his dependent situation seemed to demand. Information of 
this was given to the Board of Excise, with the exaggerations 
so general in such cases, A superior officer in that depart- 
ment was authorized to inquire into his conduct. Burns de- 
fended himself in a letter addressed to one of the Board, 
written with great independence of spirit, and with more than 
his accustomed eloquence. The officer appointed to inquire 
into his conduct gave a favourable report. His steady friend, 
Mr. Graham of Fintry, interposed his good offices in his be- 
half; and he was suffered to retain his situation, but given to 
understand that his promotion was deferred, and must depend 
on his future behaviour. 

This circumstance made a deep impi'ession on the mind 
of Burns. Fame exaggerated his misconduct, and represent- 
ed him as actually dismissed from his office. And this re- 
port induced a gentleman of much respectibility to propose a 
subscription in his favour. The offer was refused by our poet 
in a letter of great elevation of sentiment, in which he gives 
an account of the whole of this transaction, and defends him- 
self from the imputation of disloyal sentiments on the one 
hand, and on the other from the charge of having made sub- 
missions, for the sake of office, unworthy of his character. 

" The partiality of my countrymen," he observes, " has 
brought me forward as a man of genius, and have given me 
a character to suppoi't. In the poet I have avowed manly 
and independent sentiments, which I hope have been found 
in the man. Reasons of no less weight than the support of 



xiv THE LIFE OF 

a wife and children have pointed out my present occupation 
as the only eligible line of life within my reach. Still my 
honest fame is my dearest concern ; and a thousand times 
have I trembled at the idea of the degrading epithets that 
malice or misrepresentation may affix to my name. Often 
in blasting anticipation have I listened to some future hack- 
ney scribbler, witli the heavy malice of savage stupidity, ex- 
ultingly asserting that Burns notwithstanding i\\B fanfaronade 
of independence to be found in his works, and after having 
been held up to public view, and to public estimation, as a 
man of some genius ; yet quite destitute of resources within 
himself to support his borrowed dignity, dwindled into a pal- 
try exciseman, and slunk out the rest of. his insignificant ex- 
istence in the meanest of pursuits, and among the lowest of 
mankind. 

" In your illustrious hands Sir, permit me to lodge my 
strong disavowal and defiance of such slanderous falsehoods. 
BURNS was a poor man from his birth, and an Exciseman 
by necessity : but— I WILL say it ! THE STERLING OF 
HIS HONEST WORTH, POVERTY COULD NOT DE- 
BASE ; AND HIS INDEPENDENT BRITISH SPIRIT, 
OPPRESSION MIGHT BEND, BUT COULD NOT 
SUBDUE." 

From this period, he received no preferment whatever. — 
It is not suprising that the indiscreet expressions of a man so 
powerful as Burns, should have attracted the notice of the 
servants of Government. Yet generous minds will lament 
that their measures of precaution should have robbed the 
imagination of our poet of the last prop on which his hope of 
independence rested, and by imbittering his peace, have ag- 
gravated those excesses which were soon to conduct him to 
an untimely grave. 

Though the vehemence of Burns' temper, increased as it 
often was by stimulating liquors, might lead him into many 
improper and unguarded expressions, there seems no reason 
to doubt of his attachment to our mixed form of government. 
In his common -place book, where he could have no tempta- 
tion to disguise, are the following sentiments : — " Whatever 
might be my sentiments of republics, ancient or modern, as 
to Britain, i ever abjured the idea. A constitution which, in 
its original principles, experience has proved to be every way 
fitted for our happiness, it would be insanity to rej ect for an 
untried visionary theory." In conformity to these sentiments, 



ROBERT BURNS. xv 

wUeii the pressing nature of public affairs called, in 1795, for 
a geae-al arming of the people, Burns appeared in the ranks 
of "litr Dumfries volunteers ; and on that occasion he brought 
forward a patriotic Hymn, worthy of the Grecian muse, 
when Greece was most conspicuous for genius and valour,' 

Endoned by nature with great sensibility of nerves, Burns 
was, in his corporeal, as well as in his mental system, liable 
to inoidinate impressions, to fever of body as well as of mind. 
This predisposition to disease, heightened by irregularity, 
was perceptibly wearing away the frail thread of existetsce ; 
and he vvas himself conscious, some montlis before it gave 
way, that it would not long remain unbroken. 

From October 1795, to the following January, he had been 
confined to the house. A few days after he began to go abroad, 
he again became the victim of a severe rheumatic fever. From 
this time every alarming symptom becoming more decisive, 
he felt himself fast approaching towards the bourne " whence 
no traveller returns." He was ever musing on the approach- 
ing desolation of his family, and his spirits sunk into an uni- 
form gloom. " My eyes," says he, " are closed in misery, 
and opened without hope; I only know existence by the heavy 
hand of sickness, and count time by the repercussions of 
pain." 

The return of spring brought no return of hope ; and, grown 
impatient of advice, which gave him no relief, he resolved to 
try the effects of sea-bathing. With this view he removed 
to Brow, in Annandale, on the shore of the Solway Frith. 

Bathing seemed at first to afford some relief; but the fever 
soon returned with new violence. When brought back to his 
house, on the 18th of July, he was no longer able to stand 
upright — a tremor pervaded his frame ; his tor^u _' was parch- 
ed ; and, except when roused by conversation, his mind sunk 
into delirium. On the second and third day the fever increas- 
ed, and his strength diminished. On the fourth, the suffer- 
ings of this great but iil-requitted genius were terminated, 
in the thirty-eight year of his age. 

The remains of Burns were interred witii niilitary honours, 
in the burial-ground of the South Church-yard, on the £6th 
July 1796, amidst an amazing concourse of people from all 
quarters, who came to witness the obsequies of this illustrious 
Bard. Burns left a widow and four sons, (besides two ille- 
gitimate daughters) behind him, all of whom still survive. 
On the morning of the funeral, Mrs. Burns was delivered of 
a fifth son, who was named Maxwell. He too has already 
become an inhabitant of the " dark and narrow house" with 
his celebrated father. 

* See" Farewell, tliou fair (Jar,"-- — 



xvi THE LIFE OF 

Burns died in great poverty, but the independence of his 
spirit, and the exemplary prudence of Mrs. Burns, had preserv- 
ed iiim from debt. Poverty, however, never bent his spirit to 
any pecuniary meanness. Neither chicanery, nor sordidness, 
ever appeared in his conduct. Indeed he carried his disre- 
gard of money to a blameable excess. Even in the midst of 
distress he bore himself loftily to the world, and received 
with a jealous reluctance every offer of friendly assistance. 
His printed poems had procured him celebrity, with a clear 
profit of some hundred pounds ; and a just and fair recom- 
pense for the latter offspring of his pen, might have produced 
him considerable emolument. In 1795, the editor of a res- 
pectable London newspaper made a proposal to him, that he 
should furnish them once a week with an article for their 
poetical department, and receive from them a recompense of 
fifty-two guineas per annum ; an offer which the pride of 
genius disdained to accept. Yet he had for several years 
furnished, and was at that time furnishing, the " Museum" 
of Johnson, and the beautiful work of Mr. Thomson, with his 
far-famed lyrics, without fee or reward. " As to any remu- 
neration," he writes the latter gentleman, " you may think 
my songs either above or below price, for they shall abso- 
lutely be either. In the honest enthusiasm with which I 
embark in your undertaking, to talk of money, wages, fer, 
hire, &c. would be DOWNRIGHT PROSTITUTION OF 
SOUL." 

The distresses he had feared for his family, were averted 
by a subscription set on foot for their support by his friends ; 
and Mr. Miller, Dr. Maxwell, and other gentlemen of the 
first respectability, became trustees for the application of the 
money to its proper objects. The fund thus raised, was very 
considerably augmented by the profits of the valuable edition 
of his works, published at Liverpool by the late Dr. Currie. 
Burns was nearly five feet ten inches in height, and of a 
form that indicated agility as well as strength. His well- 
raised forehead, shaded with black curling hair, indicated 
extensive capacity. His eyes were large, dark, full of ardour 
and intelligence. His face was well formed ; and his coun- 
tenance uncommonly interesting and expressive. His mode 
of dressing, which was often slovenly, and a certain fulness 
and bend in his shoulders, characteristic of his original pro- 
fession, disguised in some degree the natural symmetry and 
elegance of his form. The external appearance of Burns was 
most strikingly indicative of the character of his mind. On 
a first view, his physiognomy had a certain air of coarseness, 
mingled however with an expression of deep penetration, 
and of calm thoughtfulness approaching to melancholy. 



ROBERT BURNS. xvii 

There appeared in his first manner and address perfect ease 
and self-possession, but a stern and almost supercilioiis ele- 
vation, not indeetl incompatible with openness and affability, 
Avhich, however, bespoke a mind conscious of superior talents. 
Burns was by nature kind, brave, sincere, and in a singula!- 
degree compassionate. Though jealous of the proud man's 
scorn, jealous to an extreme of the insolence of wealth and 
inaccessible to the approach of pride, he was open to every 
advance of kindness and of benevolence. His dark and 
haughty countenance easily relaxed into a look of good will, 
of pity, or of tenderness. The tones of his voice happilj' cor- 
responded with the expression of his features, and with the 
feelings of his mind. When to these endowments are added, 
a rapid and distinct apprehension, a most powerful under- 
standing, and a happy command of language — of strength as 
well as brilliancy of expression — we shall be able to account 
for the extraordinary attractions of his conversation — fov 
the sorcery Avhich in his parties of pleasure he seemed to 
exert on all around him. No languor could be felt in the so- 
ciety of a man who passed at pleasure from grave to gay, from 
the ludicrous to the pathetic, from the simple to the sublime^ 
who wielded all his faculties with equal strength and ease, 
and never failed to impress the offspring of his fancy with 
The stamp of his understanding. 



CHARACTER 



"^mm Aur^iKDiBa 



BY HIS BROTHER GILBERT BURNS. 



I HAVE now arrived at a very painful and delicate part 
of my editorial duty, but in the discharge of which, I hope to 
have the sympathetic consideration of all the feeling and 
humane who may peruse these pages. 

On the subject of my brother's habits, succeeding biogra- 
phers and reviewers, presuming they might go beyond Dr. 
Currie's statements, have brought forward the most revolt- 
ing calumnies aud misrepresentations. 

To several of these I have been urged to publish answers in 
order to vindicate my brother's character ; but this I could 
never muster sufficient courage to do. Now, however, that 
I come before the public in selecting and arranging this edi- 
tion of my brother's works, I beg leave to submit to the 
world, what I consider the true state of the matter. In do- 
ing this, I shall not attempt to take notice of all, or even any 
of the calumnies or injurious misrepresentations of my bro- 
ther's character, which have been given to the world ; but 
shall simply, since the matter has been (so unnecessarily in 
my opinion) obtruded on the public notice, state, to what ex- 
tent the errors of conduct alledged against the Poet, may be 
justly imputed to him, and point out some of the sources 
whence such injurious misrepresentations have proceeded. 
Persons who have been at any pains to trace the progress of 
manners in this part of the kingdom, may have discoveied, 
that after the restoration of Charles the second, the religious 
profession, and strict manners of the Presbyterians became 
unfashionable, and a torrent of licentiousness and loose man- 



XX THE CHARACTER OF 

ners overspread this country, which were long prctductive of 
the most himentable effects, ami the baneful consequences 
of which may be observed even at the present time. Habits 
of hard drinking, profane swearing, and indecent conversa- 
tion, were then introduced, which have been banished by the 
progress of taste and refinement, even from the well educat- 
ed ranks of society, only within the recollection of many 
people now living ; while the influence of such an example 
may still be traced distinctly in the dissipation and worth- 
lessness of some of the lower ranks. 

Considerable remains of that style of manner prevailad in 
the middle ranks of society, when our poet first attracted 
the notice of that class. He of course, not only aimed at 
representing the manners of the age as they were, but ob- 
serving that humorous or ludicrous representations of that 
kind were calculated to be well received, he assumed a poe- 
tic character very different fi-om the real character of the 
man at that time. Thus when the old hostess, Nance Tim- 
mock, on the first publication of his poems from the Kilmar- 
nock press, was congratulated on the conspicuous figure 
which she made in the poet's "Earnest Cry and Prayer,'* 
she shook her head, and said, he scarcely ever had spent a 
shilling in her house. 

At the time when many of these rhapsodies respecting 
di'inking and drunkenness weie composed, and first publish- 
ed, few people were less addicted to drinking than our poet. 
From his apparently con arnore discriptions of that kind, 
however, a general impression was made on the minds of his 
readers, that he was addicted to habits of drinking. Hence 
in some memoirs of Burns, which were published soon after 
his death he was represented as early frequenting social pai-- 
ties in public houses; so readily do writers of a certain class, 
substitute hypothetical conjecture formatter of fact. 

The general impression of the Poefs character, made by 
the perusal of his poems of the kind alluded to, was not 
however, without its effect. On his first introduction to 
the world, the jovial lovers of fun and pleasure marked him 
as a desirable associate At that time there were to be found 
among that description of people, men of great mental ability, 
of highly honourable feelings, of kind, generous, and warm 
affections, and with very pleasant and obliging manners. Men 
of such characters were the first to forgive Burns for being 
born and educated a peasant — to acknowledge his claim to 
respectable notice in society, and to admit him to share their 
hospitality, and the enjoyment of their festive hours. 

The vices mixed in such characters are rendered extreme- 
ly dangerous to the youth who may approach them, by the en- 



ROBERT BURNS. xxi 

gaging qualities and agreeable manners with which they are ac- 
companied. Eager for fame, and fond of distinction, the Poet 
in such society, endeavoured to oAercome his aversion to 
drinking, and succeeded in beino; able to drink like other 
people. Eminently qualified to make himself agreeable iA 
such company, he did not avoid parties, where the bottle was 
freely circulated. During his residence in Edinburgh, how- 
ever, though he was frequenly in parties of pleasure, it nevev 
was suggested that he was addicted to drinking; nor was he 
ever seen duiing that time, so far as I know, in a state of in- 
toxication, but was generally considered to have escaped the 
dissipations of the town with more of the original simplicity 
of his manners, than could well have been expected. Never 
did the Poet's character appear to greater advantage thart 
when he came to reside at Eliisland. He had become a hus- 
band, the father of a family, a farmei", and a revenue-officer; 
and it seemed to be his anxious wish to discharge the duties 
arising out of these characters and relations, esteemed by 
his neighbours, and beloved by his family ; but, one of the 
branches of the great road from Glasijow to Dumfries, and 
so on to England, passed through the farm ; he had become 
an object of interest or curiosity to many passing that way : 
his avocations were frequently interrupted by the calls of 
former acquaintances or passers by, who had procured some 
introduction to him, or who had contrived to introduce them- 
selves. 

The notions of hospivality generally entertained at that 
time, required tJiat his guests should not want drink for the 
promotion of hilarity; and when not so occupied at home, he 
had frequent invitations to dine abroad, and often in parties 
selected for the purpose of meeting him. Thus was Burns 
gradually led to much relish for convivial pleasures. 

When he removed to the town of Dumfries, temptations to 
this indulgence became more frequent and he came, when set 
down with jovial company, too frequently to protractthe hours 
so employed beyond the bounds marked by prudence. lie never 
was, however, that slave to drinking which has been represent- 
ed, and never drank but when in company. Lest however, the 
testimony of a brother, at that time residing at upwards of 
fifty miles distance, should not be considered conclusive on 
such a subject, I have thought it proper to bring forward 
other evidence not liable to suspicion. A gentleman, some 
time ago, having undertaken to review the misrepresenta- 
tions of my brother's character for a new edition of his works, 
applied to Mr. Findlater, Collector of Excise in Glasgow, 
who had Ueen my brother's supervisor all the time he was in 



xxii THE CHARACTER OF 

the Excise business, for a statement of the fact, respecting the 
Poet's habits of life. Mr. Findlater wrote as follows : — 

"Glasgow 10th October, 1818. 

" Sir, I entirely agree with you in opinion on the various 
accounts which have been given to the world of the life of 
Robert Burns, and can have no hesitation in expressing pub- 
licly my sentiments on his official conduct at least, and per- 
haps in other respects, as far as may appear necessary for 
the develovement of truth. Amongst jiis biographers, Dr. 
Currie of course takes the lead, and the severity of his stric- 
tures, or, to borrow the words of the Poet, his, ' iron justice,' 
is much to be regretted, as ' his life' has become a kind of 
tect-book for succeeding commentators, Avho have, by the aid 
of their own fancies, amplified, exaggerated, and filled up 
the outlines he has sketched, and, in truth, left in such a state 
as to provoke an exercise of that description. 

" It is painful to trace all that lias been written by Dr. 
Currio's successors, who seem to have considered the histo- 
>-y of the Poet as a thing like Ulysses's bow, on which each 
was at liberty to try his strength, and some, in order to outdo 
their competitors, have strained every nerve to throw all kinds 
of obloquy on his memory. His convivial habits, his wit and 
humour, his social talents, and independent spirit, have been 
perverted into coiistant and habitual drunkenness, impiety, 
neglect of his professional duty and of his family, and in short 
every human vice. He lias been branded with cowardice, 
accused of attempting murder, and even suicide, and all thi* 
without a shadow of proof, -jnoh pudor ! 

" Is there nothing of tenderness due to the memory of so 
transcendant a genius, who so often has delighted even li- 
bellers with the felicities of his songs, and the charms of his 
wit and humour: — And is no regard to be had to the feel- 
ings of those near and dear relations he has left behind, or 
are his ashes never to ' hope repose?' — My indignation has 
unwarily led me astray from the point to which I meant to 
have confined myself, and to which I vvill now recur, and 
briefly state what I have to say on the subject. 

" My connexion with Robert Burns commenced immedi- 
ately after his admission into the Excise, and continued to 
the hour of his death. In all that time, the superintendance 
of his bphaviour as an officer of the revenue was a branch of 
my especial province, and it may be supposed, 1 would not be 
an inattentive observer of the general conduct of a man and 
a poet so celebrated by his countrymen. In the former capa- 
city, so far from its being ' imposs'-ble for him to discharge the 
duties of liis office with that regularity which is almost indis- 



ROBERT BURNS. xxiii 

pensable' as is palpably assumed by one of his biographers, 
and insinuated not very obscurely even by Dr. Curne, he 
was examplary in his attention as an Excise officer, and was 
even jealous of the least imputation on his vigilance ; as a 
proof of which, it may not be foreign to the subject, to quote 
part of a letter from him to myself, in a case of only seeming 
inattention. — ' I know, Sir, and regret deeply, that this bu- 
siness glances with a malign aspect on my character as an 
officer ; but, as I am really innocent of the aftair, and, as the 
gentleman is known to be an illicit dealer, and particularly, 
as this is the single instance of the least shadow of careless- 
ness, or impropriety of my conduct as an officer, I shall be 
peculiarly unfortunate, if my character shall fall a sacrifice 
to the dark manoeuvres of a smuggler.' This of itself affords 
more than a presumption of his attention to business, as 
it cannot be supposed, that he would have written in such a 
style to me, but from the impulse of a conscious rectitude in 
this department of his duty. Indeed, it was not till near the 
latter end of his days that there was any falling off in this 
respect, and this was amply accounted for in the pressure of 
disease, and accumulating infirmities. About this period, I 
advised him to relinquish business altogether, Avhich he com- 
plied with, but it distressed him a good deal, as he was there- 
by, liable to sutler a diminution of salary ; and he wrote to 
Commissioner Graham, in the hope that that gentleman's in- 
fluence would get his full pay continued during his illness, 
"vvhich 1 have no doubt it would have done if he had recover- 
ed. In the mean time, Mr. Graham wrote him a letter, ex- 
hibiting a solid proof of his generosity and friendship, but, 
alas ! the Poet was by this time, too far gone towards thai 
' undiscovered country, from whose bourne no traveller re- 
turns,' and he could not acknowledge it. 

" Having stated Burns's unremitting attention to his bu- 
siness, which certainly was not compatible with perpetual 
intoxication, it follows of course, that this latter charge must 
fall to the ground ; and I will further avow, that I never saw 
him, which was frequently while he lived at Ellisland, and 
still more so, almost every day, after he removed to Dumfries, 
but in hours of business he was quite himself, and capable of 
discharging the duties of his office ; nor was he ever known 
to drink by himself, or seen to indulge in the use of liquor in 
a forenoon, as the statement, that he was perpetually under 
its stimulous unequivocally implies. 

" To attempt the refutation of tl\e various other calumnies 
with which his memory has been assailed, some of which are 
so absurd, as hardly to merit any attention, does not fall in 
my way, though I hope they will be suitably taken notice of; 



xxiv ^ THE CHARACTER OF 

b«t permit me to add, thai 1 liave seen liurns in all his va 
rious phases — in his convivial moments, in his sober moods, 
and in the bosom of his family: indeed, I believe I saw more 
of him than any other individual had occasion to see, after 
he became an Excise Oilicer ; and I never beheld any thing 
like the gross enormities with which he is now charged. 
That when set down in an evening with a few friends whom 
he liked, he was aj)t to prolong the social hour bevond he 
bounds which prudence would dictate, is unquestionable; 
but in his family, I will venture to say, he was never seen 
otherwise than aftectionate and attentive to a high degree. 
Upon the whole, it is much to be lamented, that there has 
been so much broad, unqualified assertion, as has been dis- 
played in Burns's history ; the virulence indeed, with which 
his memory has been treated, is hardl}^ to be paralleled in 
the annals of literature. Wishing every success to the lau- 
dable attempt of rescuing it from the indiscriminate abuse 
which has been heaped upon it. I remain, &c. 

(signed) A. Findlater." 
■(addressed) To ]SIr. Alexander Peterkin, Edinburgh. 

Mr. Peterkin, on the same occasion, ])ublished a letter 
from Mr. Gray, of the Higli School, Edinburgh, who was 
teacher of the Grammar School in Dumfrie.-', during my bro- 
ther's residence in that town, with whonr his children were 
educated ; who, enjoying much of the Poet's intimacy and 
esteem, and being frequently with him, had the best oppor- 
tunities of knowing his habits and character. On my apply- 
ing to that gentleman for leave to bring forward his letter to 
Mr. Peterkin here, he rather chose to write his statement 
anew, in a letter addressed to myself- After some general 
observations, highly creditable to the writer, but which, consi- 
derations of peculiar delicacy prevent me from publishing: 
Mr. Gray proceeds as follows : — " In the observations I am 
now to make, I claim no merit, but purity and sinceiity of 
purpose, in narrating, that I myself saw, and I am happy to 
add, that from many symptoms, there seem^ to be a great 
change of opinion on the subject, and a disposition to listen 
to the voice of truth, however humble the individual by whom 
it is raised. I shall consider the Poet's character as a com- 
panion, a friend, a father, a husband, a citizen, and a man of 
genius ; that it may be seen, if froar his conduct in any one 
of these capacities, he could possibly be the degraded being 
he has been represented, — constantly under the dominion of 
the lowest, and the basest appetites and passions of our na- 
ture, an habitual drunkard, and a thorough vicious man, for 
' thei-ewith has he been charged withal ;' and, as my remarJis 



ROBERT BURNS. , xxv 

apply to the three last years of his life, I shall not be ac- 
cused of having selected in exculpation tlie purest portion 
of it. 

" It was my good fortune to be introduced to him, soon 
after I went to Dumfries. This was early in 1794, and I 
saw him often and intimately during the remainder of his 
life. I sometimes met him in the scenes of conviviality, and 
there, if any where, I must have received conviction, of that 
intellectual and moral degradation, of which we have heard 
so much ; but no such impression was made on my mind. 
He seemed to me to frequent convivial parties, from the same 
feeling, with which he wrote poetry, because nature had emi- 
nently qualified him to shine there, and he never, on any oc- 
casion, indulged solitary drinking. He was always the living 
spirit of the company, and by the communications of his ge- 
nius, seemed to animate every one present, with a portion of 
his own fire. He indulged in the sally of wit or humour, of 
striking originality, and sometimes of bitter sarcasm, but al- 
ways free from the least taint of grossness. I was, from the 
commencement of my acquaintance with him, struck with 
his aversion to all kinds of indelicacy, and have seen him 
dazzle and delight a party for hours together, by the brilliancy 
and rapidity of his flashes, without even an allusion that could 
give offence to vestal purity. I never saw him intoxicated, 
and indeed, I am convinced, that though his company was 
courted by men of ail ranks, and he was much in society of 
a convivial nature, tliat lie -was very seldom in a state of in- 
ebriation. 

" I often met him at breakfast parties, which were very cus- 
tomary in Dumfries, and sometimes enjoyed a morning walk 
with him, and on these occasions, if he had been suffering 
from midnight excesses, it must have been .apparent. On the 
contrary, his whole air was that of one who had enjoyed re- 
freshing slumbers, and who arose happy in himself, and to 
diffuse happiness on all around him; his complexion was fresh 
and clear, his eye brilliant, his whole frame vigorous and 
elastic, and his imagination ever on the wing. His morning 
conversations were marked by an impassioned eloquence, 
that seemed to flow from immediate inspiration, and shed an 
atmosphere of light and beauty around every thing it touch- 
ed, alternately melting and elevating the soul of all who heard 
him. He had read much, and possessed a most powerful me- 
mory, which never exhibited any symptoms of that decay, 
which must have been the consequence of habitual intoxica- 
tion ; so far from it, he gleaned all that was valuable from 
every book he perused, which he could either quote in the. 

D 



xxvi THE CHARACTER OF 

words of the original, or make the ideas his own, and embody 
tliem in a more beautiful form. In our solitary walks on a 
summer morning, the simplest doweret by the way side, every 
sight of rural simplicity and happiness, every creature that 
Bcemed to drink the joy of the season, awakened the sympa- 
thies of his heart, which flowed in spontaneous music from 
his lips ; and every new opening of the beauty or the magni- 
ficence of the scene before him, called fortli the poetry of 
his soul. 

" As a friend, no views of selfishness ever made him faith- 
less to those whom he had once honoured with that name — 
ever ready to aid them by the wisdom of his counsels, when 
his means were inadequate to their relief; and by a delicate 
sympathy, to sooth the sufferings and the sorrows he could 
not heal. As a citizen, he never neglected a single profes- 
sional duty ; and even to the slender income of an excise 
officer, not exceeding sixty pounds a year, he never conti'act- 
ed a single debt he could not pay. He could submit to pri- 
vations, but could not brook the dependence of owing any 
thing, to any man on earth. To the poor he was liberal be- 
yond his limited means, and the cry of the unfortunate was 
never addressed to him in vain ; and when he could not him- 
self relieve their necessities, to draw the tear and open the 
purse of those, who were not famed, either for tenderness of 
heart or charity : on such occasions it was impossible to re- 
sist his solicitations. 

" He was a kind and an attentive father, and took great 
delight in spending hiss evenings, in the cultivation of the 
minds of his children. Their education was the grand ob- 
ject of his life, and he did not, like most parents, think it 
sufficient to send them to public schools, he was their private 
instructor ; and, even at that early age, bestowed great pains 
in training their minds to habits of thought and reflection, 
and in keeping them pure from every form of vice. This he 
considered a sacred duty, and never, to the period of his 
last illness, relaxed in his diligence. With his eldest son, 
a boy of not more than nine years of age, he had read many 
of the favourite poets, and some of the best historians of our 
language, and what is more remarkable, gave him consider- 
able aid in the study of Latin. This boy attended the Gram- 
mar school of Dumfries, and soon attracted my notice, by the 
strength of his talents, and the ardour of his ambition. Be- 
fore he had been a year at school, I thought it right to ad- 
vance him a form, and he began to read Csesar, and gave 
me translations of that author of such beauty, as I confess, 
surprised me. On enquiry, I found that his father made him 



ROBERT BURNS. xxvii 

turn over his dictionary, till he was able to translate to him 
the passage, in such a way, that he could gather the author's 
meaning, and that it was to him he owed that polished, and 
forcible English, with which I was so greatly struck. I have 
mentioned this incident, merely to show what minute atten- 
tion he paid to this important branch of parental duty. 

" Many insinuations have been made against his character 
as a husband, but without the slightest proof, and I might pass 
from this charge, with that neglect which it merits ; but I am 
happy to say, that I have in exculpation, the direct evidence 
of Mrs. Burns herself, who, among many amiable and respect- 
able qualities, ranks a veneration for the memory of her de- 
parted husband, Avhom she never names, but in terms of the 
profoundest respect, and the deepest regret, to lament his 
misfortunes, or to extol his kindness to herself, not as the 
momentary overflowings of the heart in a season of penitence, 
for offences generally forgiven, but an habitual tenderness, 
that ended only with his life. I place this evidence, which 
I am proud to bring forward on her own authority, against a 
thousand anonymous calumnies. 

" To the very end of his existence, all the powers of his 
mind were as vigorous, as in the blossom of their spring: and 
it may be asked, if the numerous songs written for Mr. Thom- 
son's collection, which were his last compositions, and by 
many, considered the glory of his genius, indicate any intel- 
lectual decay, yet it is strange how long prejudices will keep 
their ground, in the face of evidence the clearest, and with- 
in the reach of every one. I saw him four days before he 
died, and though the hand of death was obviously upon him, 
he repeated to me a little poem, he had composed the day be- 
fore, full of energy and tenderness. Now, my dear sir, as, 
when I consider the occupations and studies of his early 
years, arguing from the general principles of our nature, I 
am impelled to conclude, that he was an amiable, and a vir- 
tuous young man, though I had not direct evidence in sup- 
port of the proposition; so on a review of the facts just stat- 
ed, I cannot for a moment, believe in the alleged degrada- 
tion of his character. The truth is, your brother partook in 
an eminent degree of the virtues, and the vices of the poeti- 
cal temperament. He was often hurried into error by the 
impetuosity of his passions, but he was never their slave : he 
was often led astray by the meteor lights of pleasure, but he 
never lost sight of the right way, to which he was ever eager 
to return ; and, amid all his wanderings and self-conflicts, 
his heart was pure, and his principles untainted. Though he 
was often well nigh broken-hearted by the severity of his 



xxviii THE CHARACTER OF 

fate, yet he was never heard to complain, and, had he been 
an unconnected individual, he would have bid defiance to 
fortune ; but his sorrows for his wife and his children, for 
whom he suffered much, and feared more, were keen and 
acute, yet unmingled with selfishness. All his life he had 
to maintain a hard struggle with cares, and often laboured 
under those depressions to which genius is subject ; yet his 
spirit never stooped from its lofty career, and to the very 
end of his warfare with himself and with fortune, continued 
strong in its independence. The love of posthumous fame was 
the master passion of his soul, which kept all others in sub- 
ordination, and prevented them from running into that dis- 
order, which his great susceptibility to all those obj ects which 
pleased his fancy, or interested his heart, and the vivacity of 
all his emotions, might without this regulating principle have 
produced. Amidst the darkest overshadowings of his fate, of 
the most alluring temptations of pleasure, it was his conso- 
ling and leading star ; and, as it directed his eye to distant 
ages, it was often his only support in the one, and the most 
powerful check against the dangerous indulgence of the other. 
Possessing an eloquence that might have guided the counsels 
of nations, and which would have been eagerly courted by 
any party, he would have perished by famine, rather than 
submit to the degradation of becoming the tool of faction. 
It is a known fact, that he rejected a sum equal to his whole 
annual income, for the support of those measures which he 
thought most for the interests of the country. He had a lofti- 
ness of sentiment, that raised him above making his genius 
a hireling, even in a good cause, and his laurels were never 
stained by a single act of venality. Yet with all the nobility 
of his mind, and the kindness and generosity of his nature, 
and the supremacy of his genius, his fate has been unusually 
hard. Though his chosen companions were not more re- 
markable for their talents, than for respectability of charac- 
ter, and the purity of their lives, and many ladies of the most 
delicate and cultivated minds, and elegant manners, were 
numbered among his friends, who clung to him through good 
and through bad report, and still cherish an alFectionate and 
enthusiastic regard for his memory; yet has he been accused of 
being addicted to low company. Qualified fur noblest em- 
ployments, he was condemned to drudge in the lowest oc- 
cupations — often in scenes, where to avoid contamination, 
was an effort of viitue. Though he possessed a candour, 
which led him to view all the actions of others on the bright- 
est side, the fairest of his own have, in the estimate of his 
character, been passed over in silence, or even blackened. 



ROBERT BURNS. xxix ' 

His virtues have been denied, and when that could not be 
done, they have been extenuated. Accumulated misfortunes, 
and the cruelty of mankind, actually broke his heart, and 
hurried him to a premature grave, which to him has been no 
sanctuary, for the voice of calumny has been heard even 
there, but prejudices will pass away, and posterity will do 
him justice. They will balance the various, and olten con- 
tradictory elements of his character, and decide vith can- 
dour. They will be influenced by no pei'sonal or political 
enmities, but will drop a generous tear over his failings, which 
will appear but as a natural blemish in the light of tkose vir- 
tues, which they will read in his works, and read arigit. Now, 
my dear sir, that I have finished the object of my letter, 
which was to give you such observations, as I myself had an 
opportunity of making, relative to the habits of the tliree last 
years of your brother's life, you will permit me to say, that 
•what 1 have written, has not been with a view of wounding 
the feelings of any one; ray sole purpose has been defence, not 
attack : yet I will confess, tiiat indignation has sometimes 
swelled in my bosom, to hear the memory of the friend tvhom 
I loved, and the man of genius whom I admired, tracjuced 
and calumniated by men who knew him not, and wh* had 
not the means of ascertaining the truth of their allegatibns ; 
and I shall deem it the proudest work of my life, if mv feeble 
efforts shall be in the slightest degree instrumental, in bor- 
recting erroneous opinions, which it can be the interest of 
none to keep alive, though to the shame of our country, they 
have been too long and too widely circulated. 

"•I am, &c. 

"James Gray.'' 

Having thus produced the testimony of men of the highest 
respectability, who had the best opportunities of knowiug the 
truth, and who could have no other motive in being thus 
brought before the public, but the love of truth and justice, 
I trust these exaggerated statements and misrepresentations, 
made from hypothetical conjecture, or malicious unauthenti- 
cated reports will no longer be listened to. Some of the 
sources whence such reports originated, and how they came 
to obtain the currency they have received, I shall not take 
notice of. Every one must have observed the effect of party 
spirit in obscuring the truth, and maligning the characters of 
the opposite party, and how what has begun in the opposition 
of opinion, ends so frequently in personal enmitv, and ill 
will. During times of public alarm, and apprehension of in- 
testine commotion, such as took place in this country, in 
1794, and for some time after, 1 am aware that a great pro- 



XXX THE CHARFXTAR OF 

portion of the respectable part of the community, a great 
part of the wise and prudent, will be found ranged on the 
side of the existing government, unless its con-uptions have 
become great indeed ; but on that side also will be found, a 
great host of a very different description, all the satellites of 
power, and the parasites of greatness, with all the worthless 
and detectable crew of time -serving, and officious informers. 
At such times, loyalty becomes to be esteemed the cardinal 
virtue, capable of " hiding a multitude of sins ;" and many 
who are conscious, how worthless and hollow-hearted they are, 
seek to |iece up their reputation, and ingratiate themselves 
with then- superiors, by an extraordinary display of loyalty 
and attacliment to the existing order of things, and a virtu 
ous zeal, in hunting down, whoever has the audacity to ques 
lion the conduct of men in power. 

To peisons of that description, the imprudent Poet had 
made himself peculiarly obnoxious, by the unguarded freedom, 
with which he expressed his opinion of the wonderful events, 
then attracting the notice of every one ; and their enmity 
was keightened by his unqualified expression, general and 
particular, of his contempt for such sycophantic characters. 
By such " loyal natives," was the conduct of our Poet strictly 
watc\ed, with the view of detecting every political trans- 
gression, or private fault ; every imprudence or failing was 
magiified and exaggerated to a frightful degree, and the pub- 
lic alarm, which brought such characters into contact, with 
the respectable orders of society, procured the admission 
and circulation, of those injurious reports, in such circles of 
society, as made them be received without suspicion. 

Aiother source of injury to the Poet's character, seems 
to have arisen from friends, or people pretending friendship 
or intimacy with him, who wished to have something won- 
derful to tell, of a person who had attracted so much of the 
notice of the world. It is well known, that many persons 
are to be found, whose code of moral obligation does not pre- 
vent them fi-om violating truth, in embellishing a story, and 
yet are esteemed by the world " very honourable men." In 
the pictures which such men give of life or character, like- 
ness is deliberately sacrificed to effect. 

Thus in the foolish story of a sword-cane, brought forward 
in the Quarterly Review, the vanity of some pretended friend 
of the Poet, is displayed, by the relation of a powerful admo- 
nition, addressed by the narrator to the Poet, producing such 
theatric starts and agitation, as no one who knew the Poet, or 
who has even attentively perused his letters, and poetry, can 
give credit to for a moment. 



ROBERT BURNS. xxxi 

Thus have I endeavoured to trace the injurious misrepre- 
sentations of my brother's character, to some of the sources 
from which they originated ; but of the motives which could 
induce reviewers to introduce so much profound defamation 
into Literary Journals, I cannot offer a conjecture.* 



* Since the above was written, the editor of the Edinburgh Review, with % 
candour wlii'-h do**s him much honour, has, in a late number, when reviewing 
Caiiipbell's selections from the British Poets, acknowleilged ihe rashnt^ss and 
injustice ot some of his former criticisms on Burus's works. To Mr. Camp- 
bell himself, the friends of Burns, as well as of every poet he has selected 
from, owe much gratitude for his candour, and the modest anddelicate raannei* 
in which he has brijught forth the biographical notices of hisnuthnrs, and his 
criticisms upon their works. In these criticisms (generally just and discrimi- 
nating,) he has shewn, that the nicest critical acumen is not necessarily con- 
nected with that asperity and sarcastic sneer, which too frequently disgrace 
the periodical criticisms of modern times. O. B. 



The Life of Robert Burns, . , . , 

€haraeter of Bui'iis by his brother, . . • . 

PART I.— HUMOROUS DESCRIPTIVE AND 
PATHETIC. 

The Cotter's Saturday Night, .... 

Tarn O Shaater, .... 

Halloween, .... 

The twa dogs, .... 

The Vision, . . . . 

Mauchline Holy Fair, 

Address to the Deil, 

Death and Dr. Hornbook, 

Scotch Drink, 

The Author's earnest cry and prayer to the Scotch representati 

the House of Commons, 
The Brigs of Ayr, . . , 

A Dream, . . . ' . 

The Ordination, . . 

Tam Samson's Elegy, 
The Auld Parmer's New Year's Morning Salutation to his Auld Mare, 

Maggy, 
To A Mouse, .... 

To A Mountain Daisy, 

To A Haggis, .... 

To A Louse on seeing one on a Lady's bonnet at church 
On A Scotch Bard gone to the West Indies, 
The Jolly Beggars : a Cantata, 
The Inventory in answer to a Sarveyor's Mandate, 
The Kirk's alarm : a Satire, 
The Twa Herds, 

On Captain Grose's Peregrinations, 
On Dining with Lord Daer, 
Holy Willie's Prayer, 
Address to the Tooth-ache, . 
Death and Dying words of Poor Mailie, 
Poor Mailie's Elegy, 

Verses written in Friar 's-Carse Hermitage, 
Humble Petition of Bruar Water, 
On seeing a Wounded Hare, 
Man was made to Mourn. — A Dirge, . 
A Winter Night, 

The Lament, .... 

Despondency — An Ode . . 
IV ;■• —A Dirge, 



i 
19 



49 

57 

67 

78 

88 

98 

107 

113 

121 

12G 
133 
142 
147 
153 

156 

161 

163 

US 

167 

170 

17S. 

185 

188 

193 

198 

200 

203 

208 

210 

213 

215 

218 

221 

222 

225 

229 

233 

235 



XXXlV 



CONTENTS. 



To Ruin, ...... 236 

Address to Edinburgh, . . . . 238 

Lament of Mary Queen of Scots, . . . 240 

Elegy on Captain Mathew Henderson, . . . 242 

The Epitaph, ..... 246 

Lament for James Earl of Glencairn, . . . 248 

On the death of Sir James Hunter Blair, . . 251 
A Vision, . . . . . .252 

On the Ruins of Lincluden Abbey, . . . 254 
Toth. Owl, . . . . . .256 

On Scaring some Water Fowl, . . . 258 

Elegy on Miss Burnet, ..... 259 

PART II.— EPISTLES. 

Epistle to Davie, a brother Poet, . . . . 261 

to J. Siiiiih, . . . . 266 

to J. Lapraik, ..... 273 

to the same, ..... 279 

t6 William Simpson, Ochiltree, . . .283 

to the Rev. John M'Math, ... 290 

to a Yom.g Friend, .... 298 

to Gavin Hamilton, Esq., . . . 30ft 

to J. Rankine inclosing some poems, . . . 301 

to an Old Sweetheart, .... SOS 

to Alexander Tail, a Taylor, . . . . 307 

A Dedication to Gavin Hamilton, Esq., . .' . 310 

Letter to John Gowdie, Kilmarnock, , . . 314 

to James Tait, .... 318 

to Mr. M'Adam, . . . . .319 

>• to Captain Riddel, Glenriddel, . . . 320 

to Mr. Maxwell, of Terraughly, . . . 321 

to a Lady with a pair of drinking glasses, . . 322 

to Miss Lewars, with Btatiie's Poems, for a New Years gift, 323 

from the Guidwife o' Wachope House, . . ibid. 

Answer to the same, .... 325 

Address to Mr. William Tytler, .... 328 

to Mr. William Creech, . . . 329 

to Mrs. Dunlop, New Years day, . . . 332 

to Miss Jessy L( wars, .... 334 

to R. Graham, of Fintra, Esq., . . . 335 

to the same, ..... 338 

to the Right Hon. Charles James Pox, . . 340 

Epistle from Dr. Blacklock, . . . . 342 

Answer to the saine, . . , . . 343 

Second Epistle to Davie, a brother Poet, . . . 346 

Epistle to a gentleman who had sent him a Newspaper, and offered to 

continue it, ..... 348 
Lines to Sir John Whiteford, Bart, with the Lament for James Earl 

of Glencairn, ..... 349 

fo Miss Cruikshanks, ... 350 



CONTENTS. 



XXXV 



to Mr. Mitchell, Collectoi- of Excise, Damfries, 
to Colonel De Peyster — Poem on Life, 
to J. M. Esq. — Mauchline, 

PART III.— SONGS. 

The Farewell to the brethren of St. James's Lodge, Tarbolton, 
Tam Glen, 
Country Lassie, 
Cl:irinfla, 
The Posie, 

Wilt ihcu be my deary, 
Bess anH her Spinning Wheel, 
A R> il , Red Rose, 
Ev:in B-anks, 

The Bonnie Lad that's far awa, 
Lini s on a Plous'hman, 
Whistle oV r the Lave o't, 
Yoiing Jockey . . . 

M'Pherson's Farewell, 
Toung Peggy, 
-Aft on Water, 
Tl.. Lea Rig, 
Down the Burn Davie, 
" To Mary in Heaven, 
Highland Mary, 
Fail' Je'inie, 

Sic a Wife as Willie had. 
She says she lo'es me best of a'. 
Lord Gregory, . 

My Nannie's awa, . 

M^g o' the Mill, 
A'lld Rob Morris, 
The Bm.ks o' Doon, 
Fair Eliz><, 

The Braes O Ballochmyle, 
Thi^ Dumtries Volunteei's, 
A man's a man for a' that. 
On the Seas an I far away, 
Song of Death, . ;' 

Jesssie, 

The Lass ol' Ballochmyle, 
Casile G'rdon, 
Oijen the door to me, oh ! 
Foi- ih*- sake of somebody, 
Phil'is the Fair, 
B -waie o'B -..nie Ann, 
Til " Gardner wi' ^'S Paldle, 
Montgomery's Peggy, 



351 
352 
354 



355 
35€ 
358 
359 
360 
361 
363 
366 
368 
371 
373 
ibid 
375 
ibid. 
378 
379 
380 
381 
384 
386 
388 
389 
392 
394 
Sd6 
398 
400 
401 
402 
411 
412 
414 
425 
426 
427 
429 
430 
437 
43S 
439 
440 
441 



XXXVl 



CONTENTS. 



Bonnie Bell, 

Hey for a Lass wi' a Tocljer, 

The lovely Lass ot Inverness, 

The blue eyed Lassie, 

Strtidiallan's Lament, 

Banks of Cree, 

The Banks of Nith, 

Craige-Burn Wood, 

Address to the Woodlark, 

Mary Morrison, 

My Tocher's the jewel. 

The bonnie wee thing, 

Galla-Water, 

Willie brewed a peck o' maut. 

Then guid wife count the lawin. 

Wandering Willie, 

Bruce to his troops at BanBOckburn 

Auld lang syne, 

My bonnie Mary, 

BIythe was she, 

Tibbie, 

for ane an twenty. Tarn ! 

1 love my Jean, 
The Chevalier's Lament, 
Duncan Gray, 
Green grow the rashes. 
Addressed to a young lady, 
Daintie Davie, 
On Chloris being ill. 
Hunting Song, 
John Anderson my jo, 
John Barleycorn, 
The five Carlins, 
The Fete Champetre, 
The Whistle, 
The Land o' the Leal, 
Im.itationof an Old Ballad, 
The Deau of Faculty, 
The Banks of the Devon, 
Gloomy December, 
The Auld Man, 
A Mother's Lament, 
English Song, 

The Young Highland Rover, 
Battle of Sherriff-Muir, 
Saw ye my Phely, • 

Caledonia, 
The Gallant Weaver, 

Stanzas composed at the age ofeeventeen 



CONTENTS. xxxvii 

The ranting dog the daddy o't . . . , 559 

Extempore in the Court of Session, . . . 564 

PART IV.— MISCELLANEOUS. 

The first six verses of the Nineteenth Psalm, , . . 565 

Address to the Unco Guid, .... 566 

A Prayer, . . . . . .568 

A Prayer in the prospect of Death, . . . 569 
Stanzas on the same occasion, .... 570 

Verses left at the Rst. Dr. Lawrie's House, . . 571 
First Psalm, ...... 572 

Epitaph for the Author's Father, . ... 573 

A Bard's Epitaph, . . , . . i]ji,j^ 

Delia, An Ode, . . . , , 574^ 
Epigram on Captain Francis Grose, .... 575 

Grace before meat, ..... 576 

Grace after meat, ..... ibid. 

Oirle to the Memory of Mrs. , . , jj,;^ 

Address to the shade of Thomson, ■ . . . 577 

Epitaph on John Barley, • • . . 578 
Lines written at the Fall of Fyers, .... jbid. 

On the birth of a Posthumous Child, . . 579 

Epitaph on Robert Aiken, Esq., • • . . 580 

On the death of James M'Leod, Esq., . . . ibid. 

Written extempore in a Lady's Pocket Book, . . . 581 

Epitaph on a Friend, ..... Jb;^^ 

On Pastorsrl Poetry, . . . . . ibi(j. 

Epitaph nn a celebrated idling elder, . . . 5g^ 

On seeing his favourite walks despoiled, . . . ibid. 

Monody on a lady fam'd for her caprice, . . . 586 

To Robert Graham, Esq., of Fintra, on receiving a favour, . 537 

A Toast, ...... ibid. 

Lines presented to Mrs.'^emble, .... 588 

Verses written under the portrait of Fergusson, . , ibid. 

Hie Jacet Wee Jonie, . . . . . ibjd. 

On viewing the Palace of Holy Rood House, . , 559 

Impromptu on Mrs. Dunlops birth-day, . . . ibjd. 

Epitaph for G. Hamilton, Esq., . . . 59Q 

Elegy on the death of Robert Ruisseaux, , . . ibjd. 

Extempore on Mr. William Smellie, . . , 591 

Inscription for an Altar of Independence, . . , ibid. 

Lines sent to a Gentleman whom he had offended, . . 592 

On taking leave of a place in the Highlan<ls, . . ibid. 

Sonnet on the death of Robert Riddel, Esq., . , . ibid. 

Sonnet on hearing a Thrush sing, , . , 593 

Epitaph on Fergusson, the Poet. . . . . 594 

On Sensibility. To Mrs. Dunlop, . . . ibid. 
Extempore to Mr. Syme, ..... 595 

To the same with a present of Porter, . . . ibid. 

Epitaph on Holy Willio, . . ibid. 



xxxviii CONTENTS. 

Written on the windows of the Globe Tavern, Dumfries, 

Epigram. Excited by an uncivil reception at an Inn at Invenary, 

To Dr. Maxwell, on Miss Jessie Staig's recovery. 

Epitaph on D— — C , .... 

The Calf, ...... 

Lines Addressed to Mr. John Rankin, 

The Henpeck'd Husbitnd, .... 

Epitaph on a Henpeck'd Country Squire , . . . 

Epigram on said occasion, .... 

Written on a window of the King's Arms Tavern, Dumfries, 

Written under the picture of the celebrated Miss Burns, 

Address to an Illegitimate Child, .... 

Epitaph on a Wag in Mauchline, 

Ode to Liberty, ...... 

On Remorse, ..... 

The Rights of Woman, ..... 

Epitaph for Thomas Kennedy, .... 

Elegy on the Year 1788. A Sketch, 

Address spoken by Miss Fontenelle, on her bcneSt-night, at the The- 
atre, Dumfries, .... 607 

Prologue spoken by Dr. Sutherland of Dumfries Theatre, on New Year's 

evening 1790, . . . . ,609 

The Toast, ..... 610 

Epitaph on Miss Jessy Lewars, .... ibid. 

On her recovery, ..... ibid. 

Lines on the same ..... 611 

Epitaph for Gabriel Richardson, . . . ibid. 

Written at the Inn at Taymonth, . . . . 612 

Written on the blank leaf of a copy of his Poems presented to a lady, 613 
On the birthday of Prince Charles E.Stewart, . . 614 

Tragic Fragment, ..... 615 

Tho Vowels. A Tale, .... ibid. 

An Extemporaneous Effusion, . . . .616 

A Sketch, . . . . •. . 617 

Scotch Prologue, ..... ibid. 

Epitaph on John Dove, .... 619 

Lines written on a bank note, .... 620 

On seeing the beautiful seat of Lord Galloway, . . ibid. 

On the same, ...... ibid. 

On the same, ..... 621 

On the same, on being threatened with his resentment, . . ibid. 

Written on the blank leaf of a copy of Thomson's musical miscellany, 

presented to Miss Graham of Fintra, . . . ibid. 

Elegy on Peg Nicholson, .... 622 

Epitaph, ...... ibid. 

The Tree of Liberty, .... 623 

Written at the time, when about to leave Scotland, . . 626 

Epitaph on a noisy Polemic, . . . ibid. 

Lines written on his death bed, .... 627 

Poetical Epistle from the Rev. J. Skinner, ibid. 



Adieu ! a heart warm fond adieu. 

Admiring nature in her wildest grace, 

Adown winding Nith I did wander, 

Again rejoicing nature sees, 

Again the silent wheels of time, 

A guid new year I wish thee Maggie ! 

Ae day as death that grusome carl, 

Ae fond kiss and then we sever, 

A littlf, upright, pert, tart, trippling wight, 

All devil, as I am a damned wretch. 

All hail ! inexhorable Lord ! 

Although my bed were in yon muir, 

Araang the tress where humming bees. 

Among the heathy hills and rugged woods, 

Ance mairlhail thee. Gloomy December, 

An honest man here lies at rest, 

An O for ane and twenty Tam ! 

Anna thy charms my bosom fire ! 

A rose bud by my early walks. 

As down the burn I hey took their way. 

As I stood by yon roofless tower. 

As father Adam first wasfool'd, 

As Mailie and her lambs thegither. 

As I was wandering ae morning in spring. 

As on the banks of wandering Nith, 

As Tam the chapman on a day, 

Auld Chukie Sec/cie's sair distress'd, 

Auid comrade dear and brither sinner, 

Awa wi' your witchcraft o' beauties alarms, 

A' yf wha live by soups o' drink, 

Bt-auteiius Rose-bud, young and gay, 

Behiiid yon hills where Lugar flows. 

Behold the hour, the boat arrives ! 

Below thir stanes lie Jama's banes. 

Beyond thee dearie, &c. 

BKthe, biythe, and merry was she, 

Bl\tli' bae 1 been on yon hill, 

Bonnie wee thing, caniiie wee thing. 

Bright ran thy line, O, Galloway, 



355 
612 
536 
459 
32S 
156 
599 
367 
617 
615 
237 
444 
432 
578 
538 
581 
485 
535 
362 
381 
253 
600 
211 
373 
584 
605 
329 
316 
445 
170 
350 
442 
539 
626 
452 
481 
539 
. 463 
621 



xl 



INDEX. 



But lately seen in gladsome gveen. 
But rarely seen since nature's birth, 
By Allan-stream I chanc'd to rove, 
By yon castle wall at the close of the day, 
Canst thou leave me thus my Katy, 
Cease ye prudes, your envious railing, 
Clarinda, mistress of my soul, 
Cold blaws the wind frae east to west, 
Come let me take thee to ray breast, 
Contented wi' little, and canty wi' mair 
Curst be the man, the poorest wretch in life. 
Curse on ungrateful man that can't be pleas'd, 
Dear Burns, thou brother of my heart, 
Dear Smith, the sleest paukie thief, 
.Deluded Swain the pleasure. 
Dire was the hate at old Harlaw, 
Does haughty Gaul invasion threat ? 
Duncan Gray cam here to woo, 
Dweller in yon dungeon dark, 
Edina! Scotia's darling seat ! 
Expect na Sir in this narration, 
Fair fa' your honest sonsie face. 
Fair empress of the poet's soul, 
Fair the face of orient day, 
Fairest maid on Devon banks, 
Fftlse flatterer, hope, away! 
Farewell thou stream that gently flows. 
Farewell thou fair day ; thou green earth, and ye skies 
Farewell ye dungeons dark and strong, . 

Fate gave the word, the arrow sped. 
Fill me with the rosy wine. 
First when Maggy was my care, "* . 
Flow gently sweet Afton, amang thy green braes. 
For Lords or King's, I dinna mourn. 
Forlorn my love no comfort near, 
Frae the friends and land I love, 
Friday first's the day appointed. 
Friend of the Poet tried and leal. 
From thee Eliza I must go, 
Gane is the day and mirk's the night. 
Go fetch to me a pint of wine, 
Grant me indulgent Heav'n that I may live, 
Green grow the rashes O, 
Guid mornin' to your Majesty ! 
Guid speed and furder to you Johnnie, 
Had I a cave on some wild distant shore. 
Hail Poesy ! thou Nymph reserv'd, 
Hark the Mavis' evening sang, 
Has auld Kilmarrock seen the deil, 



INDEX. 

Ha ! where ye gaun, ye crowlin ferlie. 
Hear Land o' cakes and brither Scots, 
He clench'd his pamphlets in his fist, 

Here awa there awa wand'ring Willie, 

Here Brewer Gabriel's fire's fXtinct, 

Heard ye o' the tree o' France ? 

Health to the Maxwells' vet'ran chief! 

He who of Raiikine sang, lies stiff and dead, 

Hf re Holy Willie's sair worn clay. 

Here lies Jonnie Pidgeon, 

Here lies in earth a root of h — 1, 

Here lies now a prey to insulting neglect. 

Here lies John Barley honest man. 

Here is the glen, and there the bower. 

Here's a health to ane I lo'e dear, 

Here's a health to them that's awa, 

Here's a bottle and an honest friend. 

Here where the Scottish muse immortal lives. 

Here Sowter in death does sleep. 

Her flowing hair the raven's wing, 

How can my poor heart be glad. 

How cold is that bosom which folly once fir'd. 

How cruel are the parents. 

How lang and drearv is the night, 

How plrasant the banks of the slow winding Devon, 

How wisdom and folly meet, mix and unite. 

Husband, husband, cease your strife, 

I call no goddess to inspire my strains, 

I dream 'd I lay where flowers were springing, 

I do confess thou art sae fair, 

I gaed a waefu' gate, yestre^-n, 

1 gat your letter, winsome Willie, 

I hae a wife o' my ain, . • 

I hold it Sir, my bouuden duty, 

I lang hae thought my youthfu' friend, 

I'll ay ca'in by yon town, 

Ilk care and fear when thou art near, 

I' mind it weel in early date, 

I'm three times, do-ihly , o'er your debtor, 

I murder hate by fitld orflood, 

I'm wearing a*a Jean, 

Inhuman man ! curse on thy barb'rous art, 

In Mauchline there dwells six proper yOung belles. 

Id airamt-r when the hay was mawn. 

Instead of a song boys, I'll give you a toast. 

In (lolitics if thou woulds't mix, 

Johi' Anderson my Jo, John, 

Jock>'> 's taen the parting kiss, 

T siagof a whistle,^ whistle of worth, 



16S 

198 

564 

470 

Cll 

623 

321 

627 

595 

619 

597 

587 

578 

448 

486 

369 

564 

621 

584 

462 

425 

586 

563 

480 

5S8 

340 

421 

587 

559 

561 

446 

283 

532 

300 

296 

374 

433 

325 

346 

596 

530 

221 

489 

358 

587 

596 

513 

406 

525 



xlii 



INDEX. 



Is there a v/hlra — inspired fool, 

Is thi're, for hones! povf i ty. 

It was tht; charming month of May, 

It was upon a Lammas night, 

Kemble thou eiir'sl my unbelief, 

Ken ye ought o' Captain Grose ? 

Kilmarnock Wabsters fidge and claw. 

Kind Sir, I've read your paper through, 

Know thou O stranger to the fame. 

Lament in rhyme, lament in prose, . 

Lanaent 'm Mwuchline husbands a', 

Lassie wi' tlie iint white locks. 

Last May a braw woer cam down the lang glen. 

Late crippled of an arm, and now a leg. 

Let not woman e'lT coiiiplain. 

Let oihi-r poets raise a fracas. 

Life ne'er exultrd in so rich a prize, 

Lang, lang the night. 

Loud blMW the frosty breezes 

Louis what reck I by thee, 

Mark yon pomp of costiN fashion. 

Maxwell if merit here you crave. 

Musing on ihc* roaritig ocean, 

My canty, witty, rhyming Ploughman, 

My bottle's a holy pool. 

My Chloris, mark, how green the groves, 

My curse upon thy veiiorari'd sling. 

My father was a farmer upon the Carrick border, 

My father pat roe frae his door. 

My heart is a breaking dear Titty, 

M^ heait is sair I duvc na tell, 

My heait's in the Highlands, my hea^ is not here. 

My horour'd Colonel, deep I feel, 

My lord, I ki.ow, your noble ear, • . 

My lov'd, my honor'd, much respected friend! 

My Mary's lace, my Mary's form, 

My Peggy's face, my Peggy's form, 

Nae gentle dames, iho' e'er so fair, 

■No Churchman am I for to rail and to write. 

No dance or song bring J from you great city^. 

No more of your guesis, be they titled or not. 

No more, ye warblers of the wood no more, 

No sculptur'd marble here or pompous lay. 

No Stewart art thou, Galloway, 

Now in her gn en roautle biyilie nature arrays, 

Now bank and brae are cloth'd in green, 

Now nature hnngs her mantle green. 

Now Robin lies in his last lair. 

Now rosy Mwy c"mes in wi' flowers, 

Now Spring has clad the grove iu green, . 



573 
415 
453 
407 
588 
528 
147 
348 
580 
213 
602 
484 
396 
338 
492 
121 
260 
504 
544 
528 
423 
597 
403 
323 
596 
545 
209 
434 
546 
356 
438 
441 
352 
21S 
50 
500 
399 
501 
534 
609 
595 
592 
594 
620 
396 
370 
240 
590 
502 
509 



INDEX. 



xliii 



Xow Simmer blinks on flowery braes, 

Now westlin winds and slauglUering guns, 

O a' ye pious Godly flocks, 

Obonnie was yon rosy brier, 

O cam ye-here the fight to shan, 

O death had'st thou but spar'd his life, 

O death ! thou tyj-ant fell and bloody. 

O'er the mist shroudt-d clifi's, &c. 

Of a' the airls the wind can blaw. 

Of mII the numerous ills that hurt our peace, 

O Gowdie ! terror of the whigs, 

O had the malt thy strength of mind, 

O ! happy hour for ever mair, 

O how can I be blythe and glad, 

Oh open the door, some pity to shew, 

Oh wert thou in the cauld blast, 

O ken ye what Meg o' the Mill has gotten, 

O lassie, art thou sleeping yet. 

Old winter with his frostj beard, 

O leave novels ye Mauchline bells, 

O Iteze me on my spinning wheel, 

O Logan sweetly did'st thou glide, 

O lnve will venture in where it dare na weel be seen, 

O Mary, at thy window be, 

O May, thy morn was ne'er so sweet, 

O meikle thinks my luve o' my beauty, 

O mirk, mirk is this midnight hour, ^ . 

O my luve is like a red, red rose, 

On a bank of flowers in a simmer day. 

On Cessnock banks there lives a lass. 

Once fondly lov'd, and still remember'd dear, 

O once I lov'd a bonnie lass, 

O Philly, happy be that day, 

O Poortith cauld, and restless love, 

Oppress'd with grief, oppioss'd with care, 

O raging fortune's withering blast,- 

O rough, rude, ready-witted Raukine, 

Orthodrix, orthodox, wha believe in John Knox, 

O saw ye bonnie Lesley, 

O saw ye my dear, my Phely ? 

O stay, sweet warbling wood lark, stay, 

O tell na me o' wind and rain, 

O Tibbie, I hae seen the day, 

O this is no my ain lassie, 

O Thou dread Pow'r, who reign 'st above ! 

O Thou great Being ! what ihou art, 

O Thou, in whom we live and move, 

O Thou pale orb, that silent shines, 

O Thou, the first, the greatest friend ! 

© Thou unknown. Almighty cause. 



508 
404 
194 
422 
546 
600 
242 
626 
487 
C03 
315 
595 
627 
371 
437 
497 
398 
497 
589 
479 
363 
390 
360 
456 
466 
45^ 
394 
366 
506 
493 
306 
477 
549 
457 
233 
476 
303 
189 
470 
550 
455 
498 
482 
4C6 
571 
569 
576 
230 
565 
569 



xliv 



INDEX. 



O Thou, wha in the heavens dost dwell, 

O Thou! whatever title suit ihee, 

O Thou, who kindly dost provide, 

O wat ye wha's in yon town, 

O were I on Parnassus's hill ! 

O were my love yon lilac fair, 

O wha is sht that lo'es me, 

O wha Will to St. Stephen's house, 

O wha my babj clouts will buy, 

O whistle and I'll come to yoo my lad, 

O why the deuce should I repine, 

O Willie brew'd a peck o' maut. 

Out over the Forth I look to the north, 

O ye wha are sae guid yoursel, 

O ye whose chtek the tear of pity stains. 

Powers celestial whose protection, 

Peg Nicholson was a good bay mare, 

Raving winds around her blowing, 

Reveieiid defender of beauteous Stuart, 

Right Sir ! your text I'll prove it true. 

Sad bird of night, what sorrow brings thee forth. 

Sad thy tale, thou idle page, 

Sae flaxen were her ringlets. 

Say, sages, what's the charm on earth, 

Scots, wha hae wi' Wallace bled. 

Searching auld wives' barrels. 

Sensibility, how charming, 

She's fair and fause that c-iuses my smart, 

She is a winsome wee thing, 

Should auld acquaintance be forgot. 

Sing on sweet thrush, upon the leafless bough, 

Sir, as your mandate did request, - . 

Sir, o'er a gill I got your curd, 

Sleep'st thou, or wak'st thou, fairest creature, 

Slow spreails the gloom ray soul desires. 

Some books are lies frae end to end, 

Spare me thy vengeance, Galloway, 

Stay my charmer, can you leave me ? 

Stay my Willie, — yet believe me, 

Still anxious to secure your partial favour, 

Stop, passenger ! my story's brief. 

Streams that glide in orient plains. 

Sweet fa's the eve on Cragie-Burn, 

Sweet flow 'ret, ph dgc; o' meikle love, 

Talk not of love,' it gives nis pain, 

Talk not to me of savagt-s, 

The Catrine woods are yellow seen, 

The day returns, my '.losom burns, 

The deil cam fiddling through the town, 

Th<; devil "^'Ot notiue that Grose v*as a dying, 

Thi5( Caledoi:ia, thy wil i h ith. am ng, 

Th<» frien<l whom wild from wisdom's way, 



INDEX. 



xlv 



The gloomy night is gathering fast, . 
The heather was blooming, the meadows were maun, 
Their groves of sweet myitle, let foreign lands reckon, 
The lamp of day with ill-presaging glare. 
The lazy mist hangs from the brow of the hill, 
The lovely lass of Inverness, 
The man in life, wherever placM, 
The poor man weeps, — here Gavin sleeps, 
Th-- simple Bard, rough at the rustic plough, 
The smiling spring comes in rejoicing. 
The small birds rejoice in the green leaves returning, 
The sun had clos'd the winter day, 
The Thames flows proudly to the sea. 
The wind blew hollow frae the hills. 
The winter it is past, and the simmer comes at last. 
The wintry west extends his blast. 
There's auld Rob Morris that wons in yon glen. 
There's braw, braw lads on yarrow braes. 
There's a youth in this city, it were a great pity. 
There was a lass and she was fair. 
There was a lad was born in Kyle, 
There was once a day, but old time then was youn 
There were three kings into the east, . 
There were five Cai-lins in the south. 
They snool me sair, and baud me down, 
Thickest night o'erhang my dwelling, 
Thine be the volumes, Jessy fair, 
Thine am I my faithful fair, 
This day, time winds th' exhausted chain, 
This wot ye all whom it concerns, 
Tho' cruel fate should bid us part, 
■ Thou lingering star with lessening ray. 
Thou hast left me ever, Jamie, &c. 
Thou of an independent mind. 
Thou whom chance may hiiher lead. 
Thou, who thy honor as thy God rever'st, 
Thou's welcome wean, raischanter fa' me, , 
'Tis tritmlship's pledge, my young fair friend, 

^— To Crochollaii came. 

To thee lov'd Nith, ihy gladsome plains, 

True hearted was he, the sad swam of the Yarrow, 

Turn again, thou fair Eliza, 

*Twas even — the dewy fields were green, 

'Twas in that place o' Scotland's isle, 

'Twasnae her bonnie blue e'e was my ruin, 

'Twas where the birch, &c. 

Upon a simmer Sunday morn. 

Upon that night, when fairies light, 

Wae is my heart, and the tear's in my e'e, 

Wae worth thy power, thou cursed leaf. 

Wee, modest, crimson-tipped flower. 



409 
511 

394 
251 
552 
445 
572 
590 
134 
444 
490 

88 
449 
248 
55S 
235 
400 
464 
531 
419 
510 
553 
515 
518 
485 
447 
334 
555 
S3S 
201 
476 
385 
474 
591 
215 
349 
601 
613 
591 
464 
427 
402 
429 

79 
392 
615 

98 

6S 
402 
620 
16;; 



xlvi 



INDEX. 



Wee, sleekit, courin, tim'rous beastie, 

Wha is (hat at my bower door. 

What ails ye now ye lowsie b — h, 

What can a young lassie, what shall a young lassie, 

What dost thou in that mansion fair? 

What needs this din about the town of Lon'on, 

When biting boreas, fell and doure, 

Wl>en chapman billies leave ihe street, 

When chill November's snrly blast, 

When ileath's dark stream I ferry o'er, 

When Guilford guid our pilot stood. 

When I upon thy bosom lean. 

When lyart leaves bestrew the yird, 

When Nature her great master-piece designed . 

When o'er the hill the eastrrn star, 

When rosy May comes in wi' flowers, 

When wild war'sdeadly blast wasblawn, 

When •*••** deceased, to the devil went down, 

Where are the joys I hae met in the morning, 

Whei'e braving aagry winter's storms, 

Where Cartrins rowin to the sea, 

While briers and wooflbincs budding green, 

While at the stock the sliearers cnwer. 

While Europe's eye is fixed on mighty things, 

While larks with little wing. 

While new ca'd kye rowte at the stake, 

While winds frae aff Ben Lomond blaw, 

While virgin spring, by Eden's flood. 

Why am I loth to k-ave this earthly scene ? . 

Why, why tell thy lover, 

Why, ye tenants of the lake. 

Whoe'er he be, that sojiiurns here. 

Whoe'er thou art, O reader, know, 

Willie Wastle dwelt on Tweed, 

Will ye go to the Indies, my Mary ? 

Wilt thou be my dearie ? . 

With awe struck thought and pitying tears, 

Wow, but your letter made me vaur.tie ! 

Ye banks and braes, and streams around. 

Ye banks and braes o' bonnie Doon, 

Ye flow'ry banks o' bonnie Doon, 

Ye gallants bright, I rede ye right. 

Ye holy walls that's still sublime. 

Ye Irish lords, ye knights and squires. 

Ye men of wit and wealtl), why all this sneering. 

Yestreen I had a pint o' wine, 

Young Jockey Wiis the biythest lad, 

Yonng Peggy blooms our bonniest lass, 

Your news and review, iir, I've read through and through sir, 

Yon wild mossy mountains so lofty and wide, 



THE 



POETICAL WORKS 



ROBERT BURNS. 



HUMOUROUS, DESCRIPTIVE, 

AND 

PATHETIC. 



I 



THE 
COTTER'S SATURDAY NIGHT. 

INSCRIBED TO R. AIKEN, ESQ. 



Among the various poems of Burns, the " Cotter's Saturday 
Night" is perhaps entitled to the first I'ank. It is a pic- 
ture from real life The original may still be found in 
the primitive simplicity and piety of the cottagers in the 
country districts of Scotland, where the evils of the times, 
and the turbulence of political parties have not chilled the 
social principle, and turned the tide of restricted ven- 
geance against the altars of religion. This poem is both 
tender and moral, solemn and devoticJnal, and I'ises at 
length into a strain of sublimity, which modern poetry 
has not surpassed. In no age or country have the pasto- 
ral muses breathed such elevated accents, if we except 
Pope's Messiah, which indeed is a pastoral in form only. 
In the Cotter, we have an exact copy of the poet's father, 
in his manners, his family devotion, and exhortations ; but 
the other parts of the description do not apply to his fa- 
mily. None of them were ever " at service out amang 
the neibours roun'." Instead of depositing their " sair- 
won penny-fee" with their parents, their father laboured 
hard, and lived with the most rigid economy, that he might 
be able to keep them at home, and have thereby an op- 
portunity of watching the progress of their young minds, 
and of forming them to habits of piety and virtue. 

Burns has produced some of his best pieces in order to 
illustrate some previous sentiment or feeling, which had 
struck him as grand or affecting. He had frequently re- 
marked to his brother Gilbert, that there was something 
peculiarly venerable in the phrase " Let us worship God," 
used by a decent, sober head of a family, introducing fa- 
mily worship. To this sentiment of the author, the world 
is indebted for the Cotter^s Saturday Night. The hint of 
G 



50 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

the plan and the title of the poem, were taken from Fer- 
gusson's Farmer"* s Jngle. 

The Cotter^s Saturday Night, is inscribed to Robert 
Aiken, attorney, in Ayr, who was one of the earliest and 
greatest patrons of our bard. — This gentleman is repre- 
sented by Mr. Gilbert Burns, as a man of worth and taste, 
of warm affections, and as connected with a most respec- 
table circle of friends and relations, at the time in which 
Burns first came before the public. He quickly got ac- 
quainted with our author, and widely and warmly intro- 
duced the poems and the poet to his numerous friends. 
Mr. Aiken showed the highest regard to Burns, as a man, 
and did every thing in his power to promote his interest 
and respectability. 



Let not Ambition mock their useful toil, 
Tiieir homely joys, and destiny obscure ; 

Nor Grandeur hear, with a disdainful smile, 
The short and simple annals ot the Poor. GRAY. 



1. 

MY lov'd, my honor'd, much respected friend \ 

No mercenary Bard his homage pays ; 
With honest pride, I scorn each selfish end, 

My dearest meed, a friend's esteem and praise ; 
To you 1 sing, in simple Scottish lays, 

The lowly train in life's sequester'd scene ; 
The native feelings strong, the guileless ways, 

What Aiken in a cottage would have been ; 
Ah ! tho' his worth unknown, far happier there, I 
ween! 

2. 
November chill blavvs' loud wi'^ angry sugh^ ; 
The shori'ning winter-day is near a close ; 
The miry beasts retreating frae* the pleugh* ; 

1 Blows. 3 Rushing noise of wind. 5 Plough. 

3 With. 4 From. 



ROBERT BURNS. 31 

The blackening trains o' craws^ to their repose : 
The toil-worn Cotter frae his labour goes, 

This 7iight his weekly moil is at an end, 
Collects his spades, his mattocks, and his hoes, 

Hoping the morn^ in ease and rest to spend, 
And weary, o'er the moor, his course does hame- 
ward^ bend. 

3. 
At length his lonely cot appears in view, 

Beneath the shelter of an aged tree ; 
Th' expectant wee thi?igs\ toddlin^, stacher through*^ 

To meet their Dad^ wi' flichterin^ noise and glee. 
His wee-bit ingle^ blinkin' bonilie^". 

His clean hearth-stane^\ his thrifty IFi fie' s^^ smile, 
The lisping infant, prattling on his knee. 

Does a' his weary kiaugh^^ and care beguile. 
And makes him quite forget his labor and his toil. 

4. 
Belyve", the elder bairns" come drapping^^ in. 

At service out, amang" the Farmers' roun',^^ 
Some ca' the pleugh, some herd,^^ some tentie^° rin^^ 

A cannie'^ errand to a neebor^^ town : 
Their eldest hope, their Jetiny, woman grown, 

In youthfu' bloom, love sparkling in her e'e^*, 
Comes hame^^, perhaps, to shew a braw^° new gown, 

Or deposite her sair-won penny-fee^^. 
To help her Parents dear, if they in hardship be. 



1 Crows. 10 Blazing pleasantly. 19 Drive the plough, 

•■Z Morrow. 11 Heai-th-stone. some tend the sheep. 

3 Homeward. 12 Wife's. 20 Atttntive. 

4 Little ones. 13 Carking anxiety. 21 Run. 

5 Running with short 14 Shortly after this. 22 Handy. 

tottering stfps. 15 Children. 23 Neighbouring. 

^ Si Mgger along. 16 Dropping, one after 24 Eye. 

7 Father. another. 25 Home. 

S Fluttering. 17 Among. 26 Handsome. 

'J Little fire. 18 Around. 27 Hard-earned wages. 



52 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

5. 

*VVith joy unfeign'd, brothers and sisters meet, 

And each for other's weelfare kindly spiers* : 
The social hours, svvift-wing'd, unnoticed fleet; 

Each tells the ui^cos^ that he sees or hears. 
The Parents, partial, eye their hopeful years ; 

Anticipation forward points the view ; 
The Mother^ w;' her needle and her shears', 

Gars auld claes look amaist as weel's the new^ ; 
The Father mixes a' vvi' admonition due. 

6. 
Their Master's and their Mistress's command, 

The youngkers* a' are warned to obey ; 
And mind their labors wi' an eydent^ hand, 

And ne'er, tho' out o' sight, to jauk' or play ; 
' And O ! be sure to fear the Lord alway ! 
' And mind your duty^ duly, morn and night ! 
• ' Lest in temptation's path ye gang® astray, 
' Implore his counsel and assisting might : 
'They never sought in vain that sought the Lord 
' aright.' 

7. 
But hark ! a rap comes gently to the door ; 

Jenny, wha kens* the meaning o' the same, 
Tells how a neebor lad cam*° o'er the moor. 

To do some errands, and convoy her hame". 
The wily mother sees the conscious flame 

Sparkle in Jenny's e'e, and flush her cheek, 
With heart-struck, anxious care, enquires his name. 

While Jenny hafilins'^ is afraid to speak ; 
WeeP^ pleas'd the Mother hears, it's nae*^ wild, 
worthless Rake. 

1 Inquires. 5 Youngsters. 11 Home. 

2 News. 6 Diligent. 12 Partly. 

3 Scissors. 7 Trifle. 13 Well. 

4 Makes old clothes 8 Go. 14 No. 

look almost as good 9 Who knows. 

as new 10 A neisjhbour lad carae, 

* When Burns first repeated this poem to his brother Gilbert, in an after- 
noon's walk, fjilberl said, " thai this and the following stanza, as also the 18th, 
thrilled with peculiar ecstacy through his soul." 



\ 



ROBERT BURNS, SB 

8. 
With kindly welcome, Jenni/ brings him ben^ 

A strappan^ youth ; he takes the Mother's eye ; 
BIythe Jenny sees the visit's no ill taen^ ; 

The Father cracks^ of horses, pleiighs, and kye^ 
The Youngster's artless heart o'erflows vvi' joy, 

But blate^ an' lailhfu'^ scarce can weel behave ; 
The Mother, wi' a woman's wiles can spy 

What make sthe Youth sae bashfu'® and sae grave ; 
Weel pleas'd to think her bairr^s respected like the 
lave^. 

9. 
O happy love ! where love like this is found ! 

O heart-felt raptures ! bliss beyond compare ! 
I've paced much this weary, mortal rounds 

And sage Experience bids me this declare- 



* If Heaven a draught of heavenly pleasure spare, 

' One cordial in this melancholy Vale, 

* 'Tis when a youthful, loving, modest pair, 

' In other's arms, breathe out the tender tale, 

* Beneath the milk-white thorn that scents the evening 

' gale.' 

10. 
Is there, in human form, that bears a heart — 

A Wretch ! a Villain ! lost to love and truth I 
That can, with studied, sly, ensnaring art, 

Betray sweet Jenii'ifs unsuspecting youth ? 
Curse on his perjur'd arts ! dissembling smooth, 

Are Honor, Virtue, Conscience all exil'd ? 
Is there no Pity, no relenting Ruth, 

Points to the parents fondling o'er their child ? 
Then paints the ruin'd maid, and their distraction 
wild! 



1 I"- 4 Discourses. 7 Sheepish. 

2 Tall and handsome. 5 Cows. 8 So bashful, 
.'i Not ill received. 6 Bashlul. 9 Others. 



54 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

11. 

But now the supper crowns their sinnple board, 

The halsome' ParritcJf^ chief of Scotia's food : 
The soup^ their only Hawkie^ does afford, 

Tliat 'yont^ the hallan*^ snugly chews hercood^ : 
The Dame brings forth, in complimental mood, 

To grace the lad, her weel-hain'd kebbuck, fell*, 
And aft^ he's prest, and aft he ca's^° it guid" ; 

The frugal Wifie, garrulous, will tell, 
How 'twas a towmond auld, sin lint was i' the belP^ 

12. 

*The cheerfu' supper done, wi' serious face» 

They, round the ingle ^^, form a circle wide ; 
The sire turns o'er, with patriarchal grace. 

The big ha'-Bible^'^, ance" his father's pride : 
His bonnet^^ rev'rently is laid aside. 

His lyart*^ haffets^^ wearing thin and bare ; 
Those strains that once did sweet in Zion glide, 

He wales'^ a portion with judicious care ; 
'■ And let iis worship God 1' he says, with solemn air, 

13. 

They chaunt their artless notes in simple guise; 

They tune their hearts, by far the noblest aim : 
Perhaps Dundee\<i\ wild warbling measures rise, 

Or plaintive Martyrs\^ worthy of the name ; 
Or noble Elgin-\ beets^° the heav'n-ward flame, 

1 Wholesome. 11 Good. able thickness; the co- 

2 Hasty pudding made 12 A twelvemonth old lour is generally blue, 

of oatmeal. since the flax was in with a red tassel on the 

3 Beverage. blossom. top, and a broad circle 

4 White-taced cow. 13 Fire. of red, or cbequLred 

5 Beyond. 14 Hall-Bible. red and blue, at the 

6 the partition 'wall. 15 Once. lower edge. 

7 Cud. 16 The Scottish bonnet, 17 Grey. 

8 Well-saved cheese of worn by the men, is 18 Temples, put for 

high relish. made of stout wool- locks. 

9 Often. len yarn, knit, and 19 Chuses. 
10 Calls. fulled to a consider- 20 Feeds. 

* The exquisite picture drawn in the following stanzas, is known to repre- 
sent the Poet's father and his family, at their evening devotions. 

f Names of tunes in Scottish psalmody. The tunes mentioned in this poem 
^vn the three which were used by William Burns, who had no ereater varietv 



ROBERT BURNS. 55 

The sweetest far of Scotia's holy lays : 
Compared with these, Italian trills are tame ; 

The ticklM ears no heart- felt raptures raise ; 
Nae^ unison hae^ they with our Creator^ praise. 

14. 
The priest-like Father reads the sacred page,* 

How Ab?'am was the Jriend of God on high ; 
Or, Moses bade eternal warfare wage 

With Atnalek^s ungracious progeny : 
Or how the royal Bard did groaning lye 

Beneath the stroke of Heaven's avenging ire ; 
Or Job's pathetic plaint, and wailing cry ; 

Or rapt Isaiah^ s wild seraphic fire ; 
Or other holy Seers that tune the sacred lyre. 

15. 

Perhaps the Christian Volume is the theme, 

How guiltless blood for guilty men was shed : 
How He^ who bore in heav'n the second name, 

Had not on earth whereon to lay His head : 
How His first followers and servants sped ; 

The precepts sage they wrote to many a land ; 
How he^ who lone in Patmos banished. 

Saw in the sun a mighty angel stand ; 
And heard great Bah'^lorHs doom pronounc'd bv 
Heav'n's command. 

16. 
Then kneeling down to Heaven's EternalKing, 

The Saint^ the Father^ and the Husband, prays : 
Hope ' springs exulting on triumphant wing,f 

That thus they all shall meet in future days : 

1 No. 2 Have. 

* Tlie usual course of family devotion among- the Scots is, first to sing a 
psalm, then to lead a portion of scripture, and lastly, to kneel down t« prayer. 
t Pope's Windsor Forest. 



56 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

There, ever bask in uncreated rays, 
No more to sigh, or shed the bitter tear, 

Toi^ether hymning their Creator's praise. 
In such society, yet still more dear ; 

While circling time moves round in an eternal sphere. 

17. 

Compared with this, how poor religion's pride, 

In all the pomp of method, and of art. 
When men display to congregations w ids. 

Devotion's ev'ry grace, except the heart ! 
The Po-aPr^ incens'd, the pageant will desert, 

The pompous strain, the sacerdotal stole ; 
But haply, in some Cottage far apart. 

May hear, well-pleas'd, the language of the soul ; 
And in His Book of Life the inmates poor enroll. 

18. 
Then homeward all take off their sev'ral way ; 

The youngling Cottagers retire to rest : 
The parent-pair their secret homage pay. 

And proffer up to Heav'n the warm request, 
That He who stills the raven's clam'rous nest, 

And decks the lily fair in flow'ry pride. 
Would, in the way His wisdom sees the best. 

For them and for their litde ones provide ; 
But chiefly, in their hearts with Grace divine preside. 

19. 
From scenes like these, old Scotia's grandeur springs. 

That makes her lov'd at home, rever'd abroad : 
Princes and Lords are but the breath of Kings, 

' An honest man's the noblest work of God :' 
And certes, in fair Virtue's heavenly road. 

The Cottage leaves the Palace far behind : 
What is a lordling's pomp? a cumbrous load, 

Disguising oft the wretch of human kind. 
Studied in arts of hell, in wickedness refin'd ! 



ROBERT BURNS. 57 

20. 
O Scotia ! my dear, my native soil I 

For whom my warmest wish to Heav'n is sent ! 
Long may thy hardy sons of rustic toil, 

Be blest with health, and peace, and sweet content! 
And, O ! may Heaven their simple lives prevent 

From Luxury's contagion, weak and vile I 
Then, howe'er croxvns and coronets be rent, 

A virtuous populace may rise the while, 
And stand a wall of fire around their much lov'd 
Isle. 

20. 
O Thou ! who pourM the patriotic tide. 

That streamed thro' Wallace's undaunted heart; 
Who, nobly, dar'd to stem tyrannic pride, 

Or nobly die, the second glorious part : 
(The Patriot's God, peculiarly thou art, 

His friend, inspirer, guardian, and reward !) 
O never, never Scotia's realm desert; 

But still the Patriot and the Patriot-Bard, 
In bright succession raise, her Ornament and^Guard I 



TAM 0' SHANTER, 

Alias, Thomas Granger, Farmer in Upper Shanter. 

a tale. 

Had Burns never written ought but this and the preceding 
poem, his name would have descended to posterity with 
nigh reputation as a poet. The humour of the intro- 
ductory part of the tale, where Totn is shown as planted 
by the alehouse ingle and joining the noisy glee of his 
cronies — the circumstances of terror which thicken around 
him as he advances through the dark storm towards the 
haunted Kirk — the infernal orgies of the witches' sab- 

K 



p 



38 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

baili, and the hellish scenery in which they are exhibited 
— are all displayed with a power of imagination that 
Shakespeare himself could not have exceeded. 

"When Burns' father feued his little property near Allo- 
way-Kirk, the wall of the Church-yard had gone to ruin, 
and the cattle had free liberty of pasturing in it. Mr. 
Burns, the father, with some other neiglibours, joined in 
.m application to the town council of Ayr, who were su- 
periors of the adjoining land, for liberty to rebuild it, and 
raised by subscription a sum for enclosing this ancient 
cemetry with a wall ; hence he came to consider it as his 
burial place, and his family learned that reverence for it 
which people generally have for the burial-place of their 
ancestors. Our author was residing in the farm of Ellis - 
land in Nithsdale, Avhen Captain Grose, on his peregrina- 
tions through Scotland, staid some time at Carse-house, 
in the neighbourhood, with Capt. Robert Riddle, of Glen- 
Riddle, a particular friend of Burns. The Antiquarian 
and the Poet were upon terms of the most friendly inti- 
macy. Burns requested of Capt. Grose, when he should 
come to Ayrshire, that he would make a drawing of Al- 
ioway-Kirk, as it was the burial-place of his father, and 
where he himself had a short claim to lay down his bones 
when they should no longer be serviceable to him ; and 
udded, by way of encouragement, that it was the scene of 
many a good story about witches and apparitions, of which 
he knew the Captain was very fond. The Captain agreed 
to his request, provided the poet would furnish a witch- 
story, to be printed along with it. This was the occasion 
which produced Tarn O' Shanter ; and it was first pub- 
lished in Grosses Antiquities of Scotland. 

i'he tale of Tarn O' Shanter is founded upon the following 
traditional history. 

On a market day in the town of Ayr, a farmer from Carrick, 
said to be a Thomas Granger, of Upper Shanter, whose 
way, of course, lay by the very gate of Alloway Kirk-yard, 
in order to cross the river Boon at the old bridge, which 
is about two or three hundred yards further on than the 
said gate, had been detained by his business, till by the 
time he reached Alloway it was the wizard hour, between 
night and morning. 

Though he Avas terrified with a blaze streaming from the 
kirk, yet as it is a well known fact, that to turn back on 
these occasions is running by far the greatest risk of mis- 
chief, he prudently advanced on his road. When he had 
reached the gate of the kirk-yard, he was surprized and 
entertained, through the ribs and arches of an old gothio 



ROBERT BURNS. 59 

window, which still faces the highway, to see a dance of 
witches merrily footing it round their old sooty blackguard 
master, who was keeping them all alive with the power ol" 
his bag-pipe. The farmer stopping his horse to observe 
them a little, could plainly descry the faces of many old 
women of his acquaintance and neighbourhood. How tlie 
gentleman was dressed, tradition does not say ; but the 
ladies were all in their smocks : and one of them happen- 
ing unluckily to have a smock which was considerably too 
short to answer all the purpose of that piece of dress, our 
farmer was so tickled, that he involuntarily burst out 
with a loud laugh, " Weel luppen, Maggy, wi' the short 
sark !" and recollecting himself, instantly spurred his 
horse to the top of his speed. I need not mention the uni- 
versally known fact, that no diabolical power can pursue 
you beyond the middle of a running stream. Lucky it was 
for the poor farmer that the river Doon was so near, for 
notwithstanding the speed of his horse, which was a good 
one, against he reached the middle of the arch of the 
bridge, and consequently the middle of the stream, the pur- 
suing, vengeful hags, were so close at his heels, that one 
of them actuall}^ sprung to seize him ; but it was too late, 
nothing was on her side of the stream but the horse's tail, 
which immediately gave way at her infernal gripe, as if 
blasted by a stroke of lightning ; but the farmer was be- 
yond her reach. However, the unsightly, tail-less condi- 
tion of the A'igorous steed, was to the last hour of the no- 
ble creature's life, an awful warning to the Carrick far- 
mers, not to stay too late in Ayr markets. 



Of Brownyis and of Bogillis full is this Buke. 

GAWIN DOUGLAS 



WHEN chapman billies^ leave the street, 
An' drouthy neebors^ neebors meet, 
As market-days are wearin' late, 
An' folk^ begin to tak' the gate" ; 
While we sit bousing' at the nappy^ 
An' gettin' fou' an' unco^ happy, 

1 Comrade pedlars. 

2 Thirsty neighbours. 

3 People. 



4 Road. 


7 Drunk, 


5 Drinking. 


8 Very. 


6 Ale. 





60 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

We think na^ on the lang^ Scots miles, 
The mosses, waters, slaps^ an' styles, 
That lie between us an' our hame", 
Whare* sits our sulky sullen dame, 
GiUh'rin' her brows like gath'rin' storm, 
Nursin' her wrath to keep it warm. 

This truth fand^ honest Tarn 0' Shanter, 
As he frae^ Ayr ae^ night did canter : 
(Auld^ Ayr whilk ne'er a town surpasses. 
For honest men an' bonnie^° lasses.) 

O Tarn ! hadst thou but been sae" wise, 
As ta'en thy ain^^ wife Kate's advice ! 
She tauld" thee weel^"* thou was a skellum^^, 
A bletherin, blusterin', drucken blellum^*^; 
That frae November 'till October, 
Ae market-day thou was na sober; 
That ilka melder^^, wi' the miller, 
Thou sat as lang as thou had siller^^ ; 
That ev'ry naig^® was ca'd^° a shoe on. 
The smith and thee gat roarin' fou^^ on ; 
That at the L- — d's house, ev'n on Sunday, 
Thou drank wi' Kirton Jean till Monday. 
She prophesy'd, that, late or soon, 
Thou wad^^ be found deep drown'd in Doon ; 
Or catch'd wi' warlocks^^ i' the mirk^^. 
By Allowaifs auld haunted kirk^^ 

Ah, gentle dames ! it gars me greet^^, 
To think how mony^' counsels sweet, 
How mony lengthen'd sage advices, 
The husband frae the wife despises ! 

19 Horse. 

20 Nailed. 

21 Roaiing drunk. 

22 Wouldest. 

23 Wizard. 

24 Dark. 

25 Church. 

26 Makes me weep. 

27 Many. 



I Not. 


11 So. 


2 Long. 


12 Own. 


;3 Breaches in fences. 


13 Told. 


4 Home. 


14 Well, 


.'i Where. 


15 A worthless fellow. 


6 Felt. 


16 A foolish talking, 


7 From. 


blustering, drunken 


8 One. 


trifler. 


9 Old. 


17 Every grinding. 


10 Handsome. 


18 Money. 



12 



ROBERT BURNS. 61 

But to our tale : Ae^ market night, 
Tarn had got planted unco right% 
Fast by an ingle, bleezing^ finely, 
Wi' reaming swats^ that drank divinely ; 
An* at his elbow, souter Johnny^ 
His ancient, trusty, drouthy crony^ ; 
Tarn lo'ed him like a vera brither'' ; 
They had been fou^ for weeks thegither^ 
The night drave^° on wi' sangs" an' clatter 
An' ay^^ the ale was growing better : 
The landlady and Tarn grew gracious, 
Wi' favours, secret, sweet, and precious : 
The Souter tauld" his queerest stories ; 
The landlord's laugh was ready chorus : 
The storm without might rair^^ and rustle, 
Tarn did na^^ mind the storm a whistle. 

Care, mad to see a man sae" happy, 
E'en drown'd himself amang the nappy ^^ : 
As bees flee hame wi' lades^^ o' treasure. 
The minutes u ing'd their way wi' pleasure ; 
Kings may be blest, but Tarn was glorious, 
O'er a' the ills o' life victorious ! 

But pleasures are like poppies spread, 
You seize the flower, its bloom is shed ; 
Or like the snow-fall in the river, 

A moment white then melts for ever; 

Or like the borealis race. 

That flit ere you can point their place ; 

Or like the rainbow's lovely form, 

Evanishing amid the storm. 

Nae^° man can tellj^r time or tide ; 
The hour approaches Tarn maun^^ ride; 



1 One. 


8 Drunk. 


15 Roar. 


2 Very snugly. 


9 Together. 


16 Not, 


3 Fire", blazing. 


10 Drove. 


17 So. 


4 Ale. 


11 Songs. 


18 Among the ale. 


5 CoblerJohn. 


12 Chat. 


19 Fly home with loads 


6 Thirsty comrade. 


13 Still. 


20 No. 


7 Very brother. 


1* Cobbler told. 


21 Must. 



62 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

That hour, o' night's black arch the key-stane^ 
That dreary hour he mounts his beast in ; 
An' sic^ a night he tak's the road in, 
As ne'er poor sinner was abroad in. 

The wind blew as 'twad blawn^ its last ; 
The rattling show'rs rose on the blast ; 
The speedy gleams the darkness swallow'd ; 
Loud, deep, and lang'*, the thunder bellow'd : 
That night, a child might understand, 
The DeiP had business on his hand. 

WeeP mounted on his grey mare, Meg, 
(A better never lifted leg,) 
Tarn skelpit' on thro' dub an' mire, 
Despising wind, an' rain, an' fire ; 
Whiles^ holding fast his guid^ blue bonnet ; 
Whiles crooning^" o'er some auld Scots sonnet; 
Whiles glow'ring" round wi' prudent cares, 
Lets bogles^^ catch him unawares : 
Kirk-Alloxvay was drawing nigh, 
Where ghaists an' howlets^^ nightly cry. — 

By this time he was cross the ford, 
Whare in the snaw" the chapman^^ smoor'd"*^ ; 
An' past the birks"^ an' meikle stane*'', 
Whare drucken Charlie brak's neck-bane^^ 
An' thro' the whins"", an' by the cairn ^^ 
Whare hunters fand^^ the murder'd bairn^^ ; 
An' near the thorn aboon^'' the well, 
Whare Mungd's mither-* hang'd hersel'^^ — 
Before him Doon pours a' his floods ; 
The doubling storm roars thro' the woods ; 

1 Key-stone. Jl Staring. Charles broke his 

2 Such. 12 Hobgoblins. neck-bone. 
.3 'Twould blown, 13 Ghosts and owls. 20 Furze. 

* Long. 14 Snow. 21 Stone-heap. 

5 Devil. 15 Pedlar. 22 Found. 

*") Well. 16 Smothered. 23 Child. 

7 Hurried, ^y 17 Birch-trees. 24 Above. 

S Sometimes. 18 Large stone. 25 Mother. 

^ Good. 19 Where drunken 26 Herself". 
10 Humming, 



ROBERT BURNS. 

The lightnings flash frae pole to pole ; 
Near an' more near the thunders roll : 
When glimmering thro' the groanin' trees, 
Kirk-Alloxvay seem'd in a bleeze* ; 
Thro' ilka bore^ the beams were glancin' ; 
An' loud resounded mirth an' dancin'. — 

Inspiring, bold John Barleycorn ! 
What dangers thou canst mak' us scorn \ 
Wi' tippeny^, we fear nae^ evil ; 
Wi' usquabae* we'll face the devil ! — 
The swats sae ream'd in Tammie's noddle^, 
Fair play, he car'd na deils' a boddle^ 
But Maggie srood right sair^ astonish'd, 
Till by the heel, an' hand admonish'd, 
She ventur'd forward on the light ; 
An', vow ! Tain saw an unco^° sight ; 
Warlocks^^ an' witches in a dance ; 
Nae*^ cotillion brent" new frae France^ 
But hornpipes, jigs, strathspeys, an' reels, 
Put life an' mettle i' their heels ; 
A winnock- bunker^'* i' the east, 
There sat auld Nick^*, in shape o' beast! 
A towzie tyke^^, black, grim, an' large, * 
To gie^^ them music was his charge : 
He screw'd the pipes, an' gart^' them skirl,^' 
Till roof an' rafters a' did dirP°. 
Coffins stood round, like open presses, 
That shaw'd^^ the dead in their last dresses : 
And by some dev'lish cantraip^^ slight, 
Each in its cauld^^ hand held a light — 
By which heroic Tarn was able, 
To note upon the haly^^ table, 

1 Blaze. 

2 Every crevice. 
:> Ale. 
"i No. 
5 Whiskey. 
<1 The ale so worked 

in Tommy's head, 
r Not devils. 
^ The; third part of a 



penny. 


17 Give. 


9 Sore. 


18 Made, 


10 Alonishing. 


19 Squeals, 


11 Wizards. 


20 Shake. 


12 No. 


21 Showed. 


13 Quite. 


22 Black-art 


14 Winduw-seaf. 


23 Cold. 


15 Old Satan. 


24 Holy. 


1*5 A slv.ijrvrv doi 





64 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

A murderer's banes^ in gibbet aims ;^ 
Twa spang-lanj^, wee, unchristen'd bairns^ ; 
A thief nevv-cutted frae a rape'*, 
Wi' his last gasp his gab^ did gape ; 
Five tomahawks, wi' bkide^ red-rusted ; 
Five scimeters, wi' murder crusted ; 
A garter which a babe had strangled, 
A knife, a father's throat had mangled, 
Whom his ain^ son o' life bereft, 
The grey hairs yet stack^ to the heft^ ;* 
Wi' mair o' horrible an' awfu', 
Which ev'n to name wad^° be unlawfu'. 

As Tammie glowr'd^\ amaz'd, an' curious, 
The mirth an' fun grew fast an' furious: 
The piper loud an' louder blew ; 
The dancers quick an' quicker flew : 
They reel'd, they set, they cross'd, they cleekit^'^, 
Till ilka carlin swat and reekit", 
An' coost her duddies to the wark^"*, 
An' linket at it" in her sark'^ ! 

Now Tam^ O Tarn! had thae^^ been queans, 
A' plump an' strappin"^ i' their teens, 
Their sarks, instead o' creeshie flannen*^, 
Been snaw-white^° seventeen hunder^* linen ! 



1 Bones. " - 9 HantUe. clothes to the work. 

2 Irons. 10 Would. 15 Tript it. 

3 Two span-long, lit- 11 Stared. 16 Chemise, 
tie, uiibaptized infants. 12 Caught each other's 17 These. 

4 From a rope. arms. 18 Tall and handsome. 

5 Mouth. 13 Each stout old wo- 19 Greasy flannel. 

6 Blood. man sweated and 20 Snow-white. 

7 Own. smoked. 21 Hundred. 

8 Stuck. 14 And threw off her 

• In some editions of this poem the following lines have been inserted here, 
" Three lawyers' tongues turn'd inside out, 
Wi' lies seeni'd like a beggar's clout ; 
And priests' hearts rotten, black as muck, 
Lay stinking vile, in every neuk." 
Bnt as the poet by the advice of A. F. Tytler, of Woodhouselee, very pro- 
ppi-iy omitted them in the printed collection published at Edinburgh, as they 
have a tendency to destroy the emotions of terror, which the foregoing des- 
f;ription has excited, it is to be hoped that no future printer will iasertthem. 



ROBERT BURNS. 65 

Thir breeks^ o' mine, my only pair, 
That ance^ were plush^ o' gude^ blue hair, 
I V, ad hae gi'en them aff my hurdles^ 
For ae blink'' o' the bonnie burdies ! 

But withered beldams, auld an' droll, 
Rigwoodie^ hags wad spean^ a foal, 
Lowpin an' flingin on a cummock^, 
I wonder didna^" turn thy stomach. 

But Tarn kend'^ what was what fu' bravvlie\^ : 
There was ae winsome^^ wench an' walie", 
That night enlisted in the core^*, 
(Lang after kend^^ on Carrick shore ; 
For monie" a beast to dead^^ she shot, 
An' perish'd monie a bonnie boat, 
An' shook baith meikle corn an' bear^^, 
An' kept the country-side in fear) ; 
Her cutty sark^°, o' Paisley harn^\ 
That while a lassie^^ she had worn ; 
In longitude tho' sorely scanty, 
It was her best, an' she was vauntie^^ — 
Ah ! little kend thy reverend Grannie^"*, 
That sark she coft^* for her wee Nannie^^, 
"Wi' twa pund" Scots, ('twas a' her riches), 
Wad^^ ever grac'd a dance of witches ! 

But here my Muse her wing maun cour^^ ; 
Sic"° flights are far beyond her pow'r ; 
To sing how Nannie lap an' flang", 
(A souple jade^^ she was an' strang^^), 

1 These breeches. U Knew. 22 Girl. 

2 Once. 12 Full well. 23 Yain. 

S A kind of velvet. 13 One buxom. 24 Grandmother. 

4 Good. 14 Ot'ii large size. 25 Shift she bought. 

5 I would have given 15 Corps. 26 Little Nancy, 
them off ray b-tL-cks. 16 Long after known. 27 Two pounds, 

f) One felance. 17 Many. 28 Would. 

7 Tough. 18 Death. 29 Must cower. 

8 Wean. 19 Both much oats and 30 Such. 

9 Leaping and flinging baric-y. 31 Lapt and flounced, 
on a short crook- 20 Short shift. .'>2 Nimbie young girl, 
headed staff". 21 Coarse linen. .33 Strong. 

10 Did not. 



66 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

An' how Tam stood, like ane* bewitch'd, 

An' thought his very een^ enrich'd ; 

Ev'n Satan glour'd, an' fidg'd fu' fain', 

An' hotch'd'* an' blew wi' might an' main ; 

Till first ae caper, syne anither*, 

Tam tint^ his reason a' thegither^, 

An' roars out, ' Weel done, cutty-sark^ !' 

An' in an instant a' was dark : 

An' scarcely had he Maggie rallied, 

When out the hellish legion sallied. 



,10 

J 



As bees bizz^ out wi' angry fyke' 
When plunderin' herds'^ assail their byke^ 
As open pussie's^^ mortal foes. 
When, pop ! she starts before their nose ; 
As eager runs the market-crowd, 
When ' Catch the thief!' resounds aloud ; 
So Maggie runs, the witches follow, 
Wi' monie an eldritch skreech^"* an' hallow. 

Ah Tam! Ah, Tam! thou'll get thy fairin"! 
In hell they'll roast thee like a herrin' ! 
In vain thy Kate awaits thy comin' ! 
Kate soon will be a waefu'^^ woman ! 
Now, do thy speedy utmost, Meg, 
An' win the key-stane* of the brig" ; 
There at them thou thy tail may toss, 
A running stream they darena^* cross. 
But ere the key-stane she could make. 
The fient^^ a tail she had to shake ! 

1 One. 7 Altogether. 14 Many a ghastlr 

2 Eyes. 8 Well done, short shriek. 

3 SlHped and fidgetted shirt. 15 Fairing, 
full merrily. 9 Buzz. 16 Woeful. 

4 Jerked about. 10 Fuss. 17 Bridge. 

5 One caper then an- 11 Shepherds. 18 Dare not. 
othiT. 12 Hive. 19 Never. 

tj Lost. 13 The Hare's. 

• It is a well known fact, that witches, or any evil spirits, have no power to 
lol'ow a poor wight any farther than the middle of the next running stream — 
It nay be proper likewise to mention to the benighted traveller, that when he 
fails in with bogles, whatever danger may be in his going forward, there i? 
mvich more hazard in turning back. 



ROBERT BURNS. 67 



For Nannie, far before the rest, 
Hard upon noble Maggie prest, 
An' flew at Ta?n vvi' furious ettle^ ; 

But little wist she^ Maggie's mettle 

Ae^ spring brought off her master haIe^ 
But left behind her ain^ grey tail : 
The carlin claught^ her by the rump, 
An' left poor Maggie scarce a stump. 

Now, vvha^ this tale o' truth shall read. 
Ilk* man and mother's son take heed; 
Whane'er^ to drink you are incliu'd, 
Or cutty-sarks^° run i' your mind, 
Think, ye mav buy the jov's (j'-r^^ dear, 
Remember Tarn 0' Shanter's mare. 



1 Aim. 


5 Own. 


9 Whenever. 


2 Was she aware of. 


6 L lid hold of. 


10 Shoi-l-shifts. 


.S One. 


7 W!.o. 


11 Too. 


4 Whole. 


8 Each. 





HALLOWEEN.* 



The following Poem will, by many readers, be well enougK 
understood: but, for the sake of those who are unac- 
quainted with the manners and traditions of the country 
where the scene is cast, Notes are added, to give some 
account of the principal charms and spells of that night, 
so big with prophecy to the Peasantry in the West of 
Scotland. The passion of prying into Futurity makes a 
striking part of the history of Human Nature, in its rude 
state, in all ages and nations ; and it may be some enter- 
tainment to a philosophic mind, if any such should honour 
the Author with a perusal, to see the remains of it, among 
the more unenlightened in our own. 

• Halloweve is tliaughl to be a night wlien Witches, Devils, and other mis- 
chief-inaking beings, are all abroad on their baneful midnight errands; parti 
cularly, those aeri.d people, the Fairies, are said, on that night, to hold agran«\ 
Anniversary. 



68 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 



Yes! let the Rich deride, the Proud disdain. 
The simple pleasures of the lowly trnin ; 
To me more dear, congenial to my heart, 
One native charm, than all the gloss of art! . 

GOUDSUITH. 

1. 

UPON that night, when Fairies light, 

On Cassilis Doivnans* dance, 
Or ovvre^ the lays, in splendid blaze, 

On sprightly coursers prance ; 
Or for Colean the route is taen^. 

Beneath the moon's pale beams ; 
There, up the Cove\, to stray an' rove, 

Amang' the rocks an' streams 

To sport that night. 

2. 

Amang the bonnie winding banks, 

Where Doon rins, wimplin'*, clear. 
Where Bruce J ance* rul'd the martial ranks, 

And shook his Carrick spear, 
Some merry, friendly, countra^ folks. 

Together did convene. 
To burn their nits^ an'/?o«' their stocks*, 

An' haud^ their Halloween 

Fu' blythe that night. 

3. 

The lasses feat^°, an' cleanly neat, 

Mair bravv^^ than when they're fine ; 
Their faces blythe, fu' sweetly kythe^", 

Hearts leal", an' warm, an' kin' : 

1 Over. 6 Country. 10 Pretty. 

2 Taken. 7 Nuts. 1 1 More elegant. 

3 Among. 8 Pull their plants of 12 Manifest. 

4 Runs, meand'ring. colewort. 13 True. 

5 Once. 9 Celebrate. 

* Certain little, romantic, rocky, green hills, in the neighbourhood of the 
ancient seat of the Earl of Cassilis. 

f A noted cavern near Col'-an-house, called the Cove of Colean ; which, as 
veil as Cassilis Downans, is famed, in country story, for being a favourite haunt 
of Fairies. 

^ The famous family of that name, the ancestors of Robert, the great De- 
liverer of his country, were earls of Carrick. 



ROBERT BURNS. fiO 

The lads sae trig, wi' wooer-babs^ 

WeeP knotted on their garten^, 
Some unco blate'', an' some \vi' gabs', 

Gar^ lasses hearts gang startin^ 

Whyles^ fast at night. 

4. 
Then, first an' foremost, thro' the kaiP, 

Their stocks^ maun^° a' be sought ance" ; 
They steek their een, an' grape an' vvale^^, 

For muckle anes^^, an' and straught" anes : 
Poor hav'reP* Will fell aff the drift^^ 

An' vvander'd thro' the Bow-kail^\ 
An' pou't^^ for want o' better shift, 

A nm?"^was like a sow-tail, 

Sae bovv't^° that night. 

5. 
Then straught or crooked, yird or nane^\ 

They roar an' cry a' throu'ther^" ; 
The vera wee-things, toddlin, rin^^ 

Wi' stocks out-owre their shouther^^: 



1 Sospruce, with dou- 10 Must. 1" Cabbages. 
bit' loops below the 11 Once. 18 Pullt^d. 
knee. 12 They shut their eyes 19 SttMn. 

2 Well. and tc'^ope, and look 20 Crooked. 

3 Garter. caiefuily. 21 Raith or none. 

4 Vt IT bashful. 13 Large ones. Si ConCusetlly togcthei 

5 With fluent tongues. 14 Slraiglit. 23 Very childi-eii, tol- 
G Make. 15 Hrtlf-witted. tering, i-un. 

7 Go startingly. 16 Fell off from the 24 With colewort plants 

8 Sometimes. drove. upon their shouldeis. 

9 Coleworl platits. 



* The first ciTcmony of ILdloween, is pulling each a Stock, or plant ot 
kail. They n.ust go out, hand in hand, v^ith eyes shut, and pull the first they 
meet with : ils beiisg big or little, straight or ci r.oked, is proplutie of the size 
and shape of the grand object of all their- Spells — the husband or wife. If any 
^irf/ or earth hiitk to the root, that is Tocher or Fortune; and the taste of the 
custoc, that is the heart of the Stein, is iiidii-auve of itie natural temper and 
disposition. Lastly, the stems, or, to give ihtai their oi'dinary appellation, the 
r?/7i<«, are plajed somcwheie above ihe head of the door; and the christian 
names ot the ptiople whom chance brings into t!ie house, are, acording to the 
priority of pla«ing the Hunts, the names in question. 



70 THE POETICAL WORKS Of 

An' pjif the custock^s^ sweet or sour, 

Wi' joctelews^ they taste them ; 
Syne coziely, aboon^ the door, 

Wi' cannie'* care they've plac'd them 
To lie that night. 

6. 
The lasses staw frae 'mang' them a', 

To pou their stalks o' corn* ; 
But Rab slips out, and jinks^ about, 

Behint^ the muckle^ thorn : 
He grippet^ Nelly hard an' fast ; 

Loud skirPd^° a' the lasses ; 
But her tap-pickle maist" was lost, 

When kiutlin^^ in the Fause-housef 
Wi' him that night. 

7. 
The auld Guid wife's weel-hoordet nitsX^^ 

Are round an' round divided, 
And monie^* lads an' lasses fates 

Are there that night decided : 
Some kindle, couthie^^ side by side, 

An' burn thegither^^, trimly ; 
Some start awa', wi' saucy pride, 

An' jump out-owre the chimlie"^^ 

Fu' high that night. 

1 If the heart of the 7 Behind. hoarded nuts. 

stem is. 8 Great. 14 M^iiy. 

i2 Folding knives. 9 Caught. 15 Lovinj^. 

.3 Then snngly above. 10 Screamed. Ifi TogL-iher. 

4 Cautious. 11 Top-grain ahnost. 17 Clean overthecliini- 

5 Stole from among. li> Cuddling. uey grate. 

6 Steals out and dodges. 13 The old lady's well 

* They go to the barn-yard, and pull each, at three several times, a stalk of 
Gals. If the third stalk wants the top-pickle, that is, (he grain at the top of 
tht^ stalk, the party in question will come to the mari'iiige-bed any thing but a 
Maid. 

f When the corn is in a doubtful state, by being too green or wet, the stack- 
builder, by means of old timber, &c. makes a large apartment in his stack, 
with an opening in the side which is fairest exposed to the wind : this he calls 
a Fcntse-hoime. 

!f Burning the nuts is a favourite charm. Theynamp the lad and lass to each 
particular nut, as they lay them in the fire ; and according as they burn qui- 
etly together, or start from beside one another, the course and issue of tli? 
fJourtship will be. 



ROBERT BURNS'. n 

8. 
Jean slips in twa, wi' tentie e''e* ; 

Wha^ 'twas, she wadna^ tell ; 
But this is Jock"^^ an' this is me, 

She says in to hersel' : 
He bleez'd ovvre* her, and she owre him. 

As the}^ wad^ never mair' part, 
Till fufF!' he started up the lum^ 

An' Jean had e'en a sair'° heart 

To see't that night. 

9. 
Poor Willie, wi' his how-kail runt^^. 

Was brunt wi' primsie Mallie^^ ; 
An' Mary, nae^^ doubt, took the drunt". 

To be compar'd to Willie : 
Mall's nit lap^* out wi' pridefu' fling, 

An' her ain fit^*^ it brunt it ; 
While Willie lap, an' swoor byjing^'^^ 

'Twas just the way he wanted 

To be that night, 

10. 
Nell had the Fause-house in her min', 

She pits^^ hersel' an' Rob in ; 
In loving bleeze^^ they sweetly join, 

Till white in ase^° they're sobbin' ; 
Nell's heart was dancin' at the view ; 

She whisper'd Rob to leuk^^ for't ; 
Rob, stovvnlins, prie'd her bonnie mou^^, 

Fu' cozie^^ in the neuk^^ for't, 

Unseen that night. 



1 Puts two ia 


slily, 


10 Sore. 


swore by jingo. 


with wary eye. 




1 1 Cabbage stem. 


18 Puts. 


2 Who. 




12 Burned with prudish 


19 Blaze. 


3 Would not. 




Molly. 


20 Ashes. 


4 John. 




13 No. 


21 Look. 


5 Blazed over. 




14 Pet. 


22 By stealth kissed he 


6 Would. 




15 Mollj 's nut skipped. 


pretty lips. 


7 More. 




16 Own foot. 


23 Right simgly. 


S Puff! 




17 William lept, and 


2'i Corner. 


*> r.himney. 









72 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

11. 

But Merran^ sat behint^ their backs, 

Her thoughts on Andrew Bell ; 
She lea'es them gashin^ at their cracks^ 

And slips out by herseF : 
She thro' the yard the nearest tak's, 

And to the kiln she goes then, 
And darklins grapit' for the bauks,^ 

And in the Blue-clue^ throws then. 

Right fear't^ that night. 

12. 
An' ay^ she win't^, an' ay she swat,^° 

I wat" she made nae jaukin^* ; 
Till something held within the pat^^, 

Guid^^ L — d ! but she was quakin' : 
But whether 'twas the Deil himsel', 

Or whether 'twas a bauk-en'^*. 
Or whether it was Andrew Bell, 

She did na'^ wait on talkin' 

To spier^^ that night. 

13. 
Wee^^ Jenny to her Graunie^^ says, 
' Will ye go wi' me, Graunie? 
I'll eat the applet at the glass, 
' I gal frae uncle Johnie :' 
She fuff't-° her pipe wi' sic a lunt^^, 
In wrath she was sae vap'rin^^, 

1 jSIanon. 8 Still. 16 Not. 

2 Behind. 9 Winded. 17 Enquire. 

3 Loquacious. 10 Did sweat. - 18 Little. 

4 Stories. 11 Wot. 19 Granfiraother. 

5 III t-ie dark felt. 12 No jest. 20 Puffed. 

6 The cross-beams of 13 Pot. 1\ Sucli a column of 

the roof. 14 Good. smoke. Jj 

7 Truly afr{.id. 15 End of aci-oss-beam. 22 So hysterical. 9 

* Whoever would, with success, try this spell, must strictly observe these 
directions: Steal out, all alone, to the kiln, and, darkling, throw into the^o^ a 
clue of blue yarn ; wind it in a new clew off the old one ; and, towards the 
latter end, something will hold the thread: demand, luha hands? i.e. who 
holds ? and answer will be returned from the kiln-pot, by naming the Chris- 
tian and Surname of your future Spouse. 

f Take a candle, and go alone to a looking glass ; eat an apple before it, and 
some traditions say, you should comb your hair all the time ; ihe face of your 
conjugal comjianion, to be, will be seen in the glass^as if peeping over your 
shnti!di-r. 



ROBERT BURNS. 



7S 



She notic't na, an aizle brunt^ 
Her braw^ new worset^ apron 

Out^ thro' that night. 

14. 

* Ye little Skelpie-Iimmer's* face ! 

* I daur^ you try sic sporting 

* As seek the foul Thief onie'' place, 

' For him to spae^ your fortune : 

* Nae^ doubt but ye may get a sight f 

' Great cause ye hae^° to fear it ; 

* For monie a ane" has gotten a fright, 

* An' livM an' died delieret'^, 

* On sic a night. 

15. 

* Ae Hairst afore the Sherra-moor^\ 

' I mind't as weel's yestreen^", 

* I was a gilpey^* then, Pm sure 

* I was na^^ past fyfteen : 

* The simmer" had been cauld an' wat^*, 

' An' stuff was unco^^ green ; 
' An' ay a rantin kirn^° we gat, 
An' just on Halloween 

' It fell that night. 

16. 
' Our Stibble-rig2' was Rab M'Graen, 

* A clever, sturdy fallow^^ ; 

* His Sin gat^^ Eppie Sim wi' wean^*, 

* That liv'd in Achmacalla : 



1 Noticed not a red 


11 Many a one. 


ember burned. 


12 Delirious. 


2 Fine. 


13 One harvest before 


3 Worsted. 


the battle of Sheriff- 


4 Quite. 


moor, {fouglit be- 


5 Tricky-hussy's. 


tween the rebels and 


6 Dare. 


royal party, A. H. 


7 Any. 


1715.) 


8 Divine. 


14 Well as yesternight. 


9 No. 


15 Half-grown girl. 


10 Have. 





16 Not. 

17 Sumnoer. 

18 Cold and wet. 

19 The corti was very. 

20 Always a jovial har- 
vest supper. 

21 Leader of the reapers. 

22 Fellow. 

23 Son got. 

24 Child. 



74 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

' He 8fat hemp-seed"^ ^ I mind it weel, 

' An' he made unco light o't ; 
' But monie a day was by himseP^y 

* He was sae sairly* frighted, 

* That vera' night.' 

17. 

Then up gat fechtin'* Jamie Fleck, 

An' he swoor^ by his conscience, 
That he could saw^ hemp-seed a peck ; 

For it was a' but nonsense : 
The auld guidman raught^ down the pock®, 

An' out a' handfu' gied^ him ; 
Syne^° bade him slip frae 'mang the folk. 

Sometime when nae ane see'd" him, 
An' try't that night. 

18. 
He marches thro' amang the stacks, 

Tho' he was something sturtin^^ ; 
The graip^^ he for a harrow taks. 

An' haurls'"* at his curpin" : 
An' ev'ry now an' then, he says, 

* Hemp-seed I saw'® thee, 

' An' her that is to be my lass, 
' Come after me an' draw thee 

' As fast this night.' 

19. 
He whistl'd up Lord Lennox' march, 
To keep his courage cheery ; 

1 Beside himself. 7 Old master of the 12 Frighted. 

2 Sorely. house reached. 13 Pronged instrument 

3 Very. 8 Bag. for cleaning tlie stable. 

4 Got quarrelsome. 9 Gave. 14 Drags. 

5 Swore. 10 Then. 15 Crupper. 

6 Sow. 11 No one saw. 16 Sow. 

• Steal out unperceived, and sow a handful of hemp-seed ; harrowing it with 
any thing you can conveniently draw after you. Repeat, now and then, " Hemp- 
" seed I saw thee, Hemp-seed I saw thee ; and him (or her) that is to be my 
" true love, come after me and pon thee." Look over your left shoulder, and 
you will see the appearance of the person invoked, in the attitude of pulling 
hemp. Some traditions say, " Come after me and shaw thee," that is, show 
. thyself; in which case it simidy appears. Others omit the harrowing, and say, 
" Come after me and harrow thee." 



ROBERT BURNS. 75 

Altho' his hair began to arch, 

He was sae fley'd an' eerie* : 
Till presently he hears a squeak, 

An' then a grane an' gruntle^ ; 
He by his shouther gae a keek% 

An' tumbl'd wi' a wintle'' 

Out-owres that night. 

20. 
He roar'd a horrid murder- shout, 

In dreadfu' desperation ! 
An' young an' auld come rinnin^ out, 

An' hear the sad narration : 
He swore 't^vas hilchin' Jean M'Craw, 

Or crouchie^ Merran Humphie, 
Till stop ! she trotted thro' them a' ; 

An' wha** was it but Grumphie 

Asteer*** that night ! 

21. 
Meg fain vvad*^ to the Barn gaen*^ 

To winn three wechts o' naething^^'^ ; 
But for to meet the Deil her lane". 

She pai^* but little faith in : 
She gies^® the Herd*^ a pickle nits*% 

An' twa*** red cheekit^" apples. 
To watch, while for the Barn she sets, 

In hopes to see Tarn Kipples 

That vera night. 

1 So frightened and 7 Halting. 14 Alone, 
ghost-struck. 8 Crook-backed. 15 Put. 

2 Groan and grunt. 9 Who. 16 Gives. 

3 Over his shoulder 10 Astir. 17 Cattle-keeper, 
gave a shy look. 11 Would. 18 A few nuts. 

4 Stagger. 12 Gone. 19 Two. 

5 Clean over. 13 Winnow three 20 Cheeked. 

6 Running. wechts of nothing. 

• This charm must likewise be performed, unperceived and alone. You go 
to the 5ar7j,and open both doors, taking them off the hinges if possible ; for 
there is danger, that the being, about to appear, may shut the doors, and do 
you some mischief. Then take that instrument used in winnowing the corn, 
which, in our country dialect, we call a WeclU, and go thro' all the attitudes of 
letting down Corn against the wind. Repeat it three times; and the third 
time, an apparition will pass thro' the Bara, in at the windy door, and out at 
the other, having both the figure in question, and the appearance or retinue, 
marking the employment or station in life. 



76 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

22. 
She turns the key, wi' cannie thraw\ 

An' owre the threshold ventures ; 
But first on Sawnie irits a ca'^ 

Syne bauldly^ in she enters : 
A ratton"^ rattl'd up the vva', 

An' she cry'd, L — d preserve her ! 
An' ran thro' midden-hole* and a', 

An' pray'd wi' zeal an' fervour, 

Fu' fast that night. 

23. 
They hoy't^ out Will, wi' sair' advice ; 

They hecht^ him some fine braw ane^ ! 
It chanc'd the Stack ha faddomU^° thrice"^. 

Was timmer-propt for thrawin" : 
He taks' a swirlie, aukP^ moss-oak, 

For some black, grousome Carlin^^ ; 
An' loot a winze^'', an' drew a stroke, 

Till skin in blypes cam haurlin" 

Afi's nieves^^ that night. 

24. 
A wanton widow Leezie" was, 

As cantie'^ as a kitdin^^ ; 
But, Och ! that night, amang the shaws^, 

She gat a fearfu' settlin" !' 
She thro' the wins, and by the cairn^^, 

An' owre the hill gaed scrievin^% 

1 Cautious twist. 10 Fathomed. 16 Oif his fists. 

2 Sk'kIv gives a call. 11 Tirnbev-propt pre- 17 Elizabeth. 

3 Boldiy. paratory to the opera- 18 Merry. 

4 Rhi. tion ot securing it by 19 Kitten. 

5 D'ing-hole. stravv-ro])es. -ZO Among the little 

6 Ui'i.'^kI. 12 KnHggpf), old. woods in the hollow. 

7 Eiarnest. 13 Gfini old woman. 21 Quieting. 

8 Promised him in a 14 Uttered a curse. 22 Heap of stones, 
foretelling way. 15 Large pieces came 23 ^ent gleesoraely. 

9 Handsome one. peeling. 

* Take an opportunity of going, unnoticed, to a Bear-stack, and fathom it 
three times ;oi'i.d. The last fathom of the last-time, you will catch in your 
;U'ms the appearance of your future conjugal yoke-fellow. 



ROBERT BURNS. * 7T 

Whare three Lairds'^ lands met at a hurr^*^ 
To dip her left sark^ sleeve in, 

Was bent that night. 

25. 
Whyles ovvre a linn the burnie^ p'ays, 

Whyles thro' the glen it vvimpl't* ; 
Whyles round a rocky scar^ it strays ; 

Whyles in a wieF it dimpl't^; 
Whyles glitter'd to the nightly rays, 

Wi' bickering^ dancing dazzle ; 
Whyles cookit^° underneath the braes^\ 

Below the spreading hazel. 

Unseen that night. 

26. 

Amang the brachens^^ on the brae^^, 

Between her an' the moon. 
The Deil, or else an outler quey^'*, 

Gat up an' gae a croon" : 
Poor Leezie's heart maist lap the hooP® ; 

Near lav'rock-height^^ she jumpit^^ 
But miss'd a fit'^, an' in the Pool 

Out-owre the lugs she plumpit^", 

Wi' a plunge that night. 

27. 
In order, on the clean hearth-stane^^, 
The Luggies^^ threej" are ranged ; 

1 Landholders. 10 Appeared and disap- 17 The height a lark ' 

2 Brook. p< ared by fits. will soar. 

3 Smock. 11 Declivities. 18 Jumped. 

4 Sometimes over a 12 Fern. 19 Lost her footing, 
water-tall, the rivulet. 13 Rising ground. 20 Quite over the ears 

5 Meandered. 14 Unhoused iieifer. she plumped. 

6 Precipice. 15 G;:ve a hollow and 21 Stone. 

7 Small whirlpool. continued moan. 22 Small wooden ves- 

8 Dimpled. 16 Almost lept out of sels with upright han- 

9 Rippling. its place. dies. 

• You go out, one or more, for this is a social spell, to a south-running spring 
or rivulet, whei-e " three Lairds' lands meet," and dip your left shirt-sleeve. 
Go to bed in sight &f a fire, and hang your wet sleeve before it to dry. Lie 
awake; and some time near midnight, an apparition, having the exact figure ot 
the grand object in question, will come and turn the sleeve, as if to dry the 
otht-r sideot it. 

■(• Take three dishes; putclean water in one, foul water in another, and leave 
the third empty : blindfold a person, and lead hira to the hearth where the 



ra THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

An' ev'ry time great care is taen, 

To see them duly chanyjed : 
Auld uncle John, vvha wedlock's joys 

Sin' Mafs-year did desire, 
Because he gat the toom^ dish thrice, 

He heav'd them on the fire, 

In wrath that night. 

28. 
Wi' merry sangs^, an' friendly cracks^, 

I wat^ they did na* weary : 
And unco^ tales, an' funnie jokes. 

Their sports were cheap an' cheery : 
Till buttered so^ns^\ wi' fragrant lunt*, 

Set a' their gabs a steerin' ; 
Syne", wi' a social glass o' strunt", 

They parted, affcareerin^^ 

Fu' blythe that night. 

1 Empty. 6 Wonderful. 10 Then. 

2 Songs. 7 Oatmeal flummery. 11 Spirits. 

3 Discourse. 8 Vapour. 12 Off with speed.. 
4, Wot. 9 All their chops a- 

5 Not. going. 

dishes are ranged ; he (or she) dips the left hand : if by chance in the cIcid 
water, the future husband or wife will come to the bar of Matrimony a maid ; 
if in the foul, a widow : if in the empty dish, it foretells, with equal certainty, 
no marriage at all. It is repeated three times ; and every time the arrange- 
ment of the dishes is altered. 

• Sowens, with butter instead of milk to them^ is always the HaUovieen 
Supper. 



THE TWA DOGS. 

A TALE. 

The Tale of the Twa Dogs, was composed after the resolur 
tionof publishing his first edition was nearly taken. Burns 
had a dog named Luath, which was a very great favourite. 
The dog was killed by the wanton cruelty of some person 
the night before his father's death. The poet wished to 
confer such immortality as he could, upon his old friend 



ROBERT BURNS. 79 

Luath : and at first, thought of introducing into his intend- 
ed publication, a piece to be entitled Stanzas to the Me- 
mory of a Quadruped Friend : but this plan was given up 
for the tale as it now stands. 

During Burns' childhood his father was gardener to a gen- 
tleman in the vicinity of Ayr : but wishing to have his 
children under his own inspection until they should be set- 
tled in the world, he applied to his master, who gener- 
ously assisted to set him up in one of his own farms. Two 
years before the lease expired, this gentleman died ; the 
farm itself proved a ruinous bargain ; and to complete 
the misfortunes of the Bard's family, the management of 
the estate fell into the hands of an unfeeling and rapa- 
cious factor. This man sat for tlie picture drawn in the 
tale of the Turn Dogs. His cruelty to Burns' father made 
a deep impression on the poet's keenly sensible heart. 
Thus thirteen years afterwards, we find him saying in a 
letter to Dr. Moore, — " my indignation yet boils at the 
*' recollection of the scoundrel factor's insolent, threaten- 
** ing letters, which used to set us all in tears." 

This poem was written in 1782, in the author's twenty- 
fourth year. 



'TWAS in that place o' Scotland's isle, 
That bears the name o' Aidd King Coil,* 
Upon a bonnie* day in June, 
When wearing thro' the afternoon, 
Twa^ dogs that were na thrang at hame^, 
Forgather'd ance'' upon a time. 

The first I'll name, they ca'd* him Ccesar, 
Was keepil* for his Honour's pleasure : 
His hair, his size, his mouth, his lugs^, 
Shew'd he was nane^ o' Scotland's dogs ; 
But whalpit^ some place far abroad. 
Where sailors gang'" to fish for Cod. 

His locked, letter'd, bravv" brass collar 
Shew'd him the gentleman and scholar : 

1 Beautiful. 

2 I'wo. 

3 Not busy at home, 

4 Met once, 

• King Colitis of old, reigned over Scotland, A. I). 963. 



5 Called. 


9 Whelped, 


6 Kt^pt. 


10 Go. 


7 Ears. 


11 Fine. 


8 None. 





80 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

But tho' he was o' high degree, * 

The fient a' pride nae^ pride had he ; 
But wad hae^ spent an hour caressin', 
Ev'n with a tinkler-gipsy's messin*. 
At kirk^ or market, mill or smiddieS 
Nae tawted tyke\ tho' e'er sae duddie,' 
But he wad stan't^ as glad to see him, 
And stroan't on stanes'" an' hillocks wi' him. 

The tither^^ was a ploughman's collie' 2, 
A rhyming, ranting, raving billie'^ 
Wha" for his friend an' comrade had him, 
And in his freaks had Luath ca'd him, 
After some dog in Highland sang^**, 
Was made lang syne^^ — Lord knows how lang' 

He was a gash^' an' faithful tyke, 
As ever lap a sheugh or dyke^^ 
His honest, sonsie, baws'nt^° face, 
Ay gai^^ him friends in ilka^^ place. 
His breast was white, his towzie^^ back, 
"WeeP* clad wi' coat o' glossy black ; 
His gawcie^* tail, wi' upward curl, 
Hung o'er his hurdies wi' a swirP^ 

Nae^^ doubt byt they were fain o' ither^^ 
An' unco pack- an' thick thegither^' ; 
Wi' social nose whyles snuff'd and snowkit^" ! 
Whyles mice an' moudieworts they howkit'^ j 
Whyles scour'd aw^a' in lang excursion, 
An' worry 'd ither in diversion ; 



1 The never a. 


13 Fellow. 




24 Well. 


2 No. 


14 Who. 




25 Respectably large. 


3 Have. 


15 Song. 




26 Crupper with a cu?>'e. 


4 Tinker-gipsy's cur. 


16 Long since. 




27 No. 


5 Church. 


17 Long. 




28 One another. 


6 Sroithie. 


18 Sagacious. 




29 And very familiar 


7 Dog with matted hair. 


19 Lept a ditch or 


fence. 


and intimate with 


8 So rugged. 


20 Jolly, white-streak- 


each other. 


9 Would have stood. 


ed. 




30 Scented. 


10 P-ssed on stones. 


21 Always procui 


•ed. 


31 They digged up 


11 other. 


22 Every. 




moles. 


12 Dog. 


23 Rough. 







* CuchuUin's dog, in Ossian's FingaK 



ROBERT BURNS. 81 



Until wi' daffin^ weary grown, 
Upon a knowe^ they sat them down, 
And there began a lang digression, 
About the lords o' the creation. 

C^SAR. 

I've aften wondered, honest Liiath, 
What sort o' Hfe poor dogs like you have 
An' when the gentry's life I saw, 
What way poor bodies liv'd ava^. 

Our Laird'* gets in his racked rents, 
His coals, his kain% and a' his stents* : 
He rises when he likes himsel' ; 
His flunkies^ answer at the bell ; 
He ca's^ his coach, he ca's his horse ; 
He draws a bonnie silken purse 
As lang's my tail, whare thro' the steeks^, 
The yellow, letter'd, Geordie keeks^". 

Frae morn to e'en" it's nought but toiling, 
At baking, roasting, frying, boiling ; 
An' tho' the gentry first are stechin^^, 
Yet ev'n the ha' folk*^ fill their pechan^* 
Wi' sauce, ragouts, and sic^^ like trashtrie^^, 
That's little short o' downright wastrie". 
Our Whipper-in, wee blastit wonner^^ 
Poor worthless elf, it eats a dinner 
Better than ony^^ tenant man 
His Honour has in a' the Ian' ; 
An' what poor cot-folk pit their painch in^", 
I own it's past my comprehension. 



1 Play. 7 Liveried servants. 14 Crop. 

2 Small round hill. 8 Calls. 15 Such. 

3 At all. 9 Meshes. 16 Trash. 

4 Landlord. 10 Guinea peeps. 17 Waste. 

5 Produce of the furm 11 From morning to 18 Little blasted dwarf, 
paid as part ol the evening. 19 Any. 

rent; usually fowls, 12 Cramming. 20 Cottagers put in their 

cheese, and the like. 13 Servants and de- paunch. 
5 Dues. pendants. 

L 



82 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

LUATH. 

TrowthS Caesar, whyles=^ they're fash't^ enough; 
A cottar howkin in a sheugh", 
Wi' dirty stanes biggin a dyke', 
Baring a quarry, and sic Hke, 
Himself, a wife, he thus sustains, 
A smytrie o' wee duddie weans^, 
An' nought but his han'darg^, to keep 
Them right and tight in thack an' rape*. 

An' when they meet wi' sair^ disasters, 
Like loss o' health, or want o' masters. 
Ye maist wad^° think, a wee touch langer^S 
An' they maun^^ starve o' cauld'^ and hunger ; 
But, how it comes, I never kenn'd" it. 
They're maistly^* wonderfu' contented ; 
An' buirdly chiels", an' clever hizzies^% 
Are bred in sic a way as this is. 

C-ESAR. 

But then to see how ye're negleckit^^. 
How huff'd, and cuff'd, and disrespeckit^^ ! 
L — d, man, our gentry care as little 
For delvers, ditchers, an' sic cattle ; 
They gang^" as saucy by poor fo'k^^, 
As I wad by a stinking brock^^ 

I've notic'd, on our Laird's court-day. 
An' mony^^ a time my heart's been wae^^, 
Poor tenant bodies, scant^* o' cash, 
How they maun thole^*^ a factor's snash^^ ; 
He'll stamp an' threaten, curse an' swear. 
He'll apprehend them, poind their gear^^ ; 

1 In truth. 9 Sore. 19 Disrespected. 

2 Sometimes. 10 Almost would. 20 Go. 

3 Troubled. 1 1 Small thought longer. 21 Past poor people. 
i A cottager digging 12 Must. 22 Badger. 

in a ditch. 13 Cold. 23 Many. 

5 Stones building a 14 Knew. 24 Sorrowful. 

fence. 15 Mostly.' 25 Scarce, 
e A collection of little 16 Stout, broad-built 2S Must endure. 

ragged childien. young men. 27 Abuse. 

7 Daily lubour. 17 Young women. 28 Seize their property, 

8 Tear and -wear. 18 Neglected. 



ROBERT BURNS. 83 

While they maun stan', wi' aspect humble, 
An' hear it a', an' fear an' tremble ! 

I see how folk live that hae riches ; 
But surely poor folk maun be wretches ! 

LUATH. 

They're nae sae^ wretched's ane wad^ think : 
Tho' constantly on poortith's' brink : 
They're sae accustom'd wi' the sight, 
The view o't gies'* them little fright. 

Then chance and fortune are sae guided, 
They're ay in less or mair* provided ; 
An' tho' fatigu'd wi' close employment, 
A blink^ o' rest's a sweet enjoyment. 

The dearest comfort o' their lives, 
Their grushie weans^ an' faithfu' wives ; 
The prattling things are just their pride. 
That sweetens a' their fire-side. 

An' whyles twalpennie worth o' nappy* 
Can mak' the bodies unco happy^ ; 
They lay aside their private cares, 
To mind the Kirk and State aifairs : 
They'll talk o' patronage and priests, 
Wi' kindling fury in their breasts ; 
Or tell what new taxation's comin', 
An' ferlie^" at the folk in Lon^on}^, 

As bleak-fac'd Hallowmass^^ returns, 
They get the jovial, ranting kirns^^, 
When rural life, o' every station, 
Unite in common recreation ; 
Love blinks, Wit slaps, an' social Mirth, 
Forgets there's Care upo' the earth. 

1 Not so. 7 Stout-made thriving 9 Folks very. 

2 One would. children. 10 Wonder. 

3 Poverty's. 8 And sometimes 11 People in London. 

4 Of it gives. twelve penny (-Scs^cA, 12 Hallow-eve. 

.5 More. one penny sterling,) 13 Merry harvest sup* 

6 A little while. wortli of ale. pers. 



84 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

That merry day the year begins. 
They bar the door on frosty winds ; 
The nappy reeks^ wi' mantling ream,^ 
An' sheds a heart-inspiring stream ; 
The luntin^ pipe an' sneeshin-mill'*, 
Are handed round wi' right guid* will ; 
The cantie auld folks crackin crouse^, 
The young anes rantin^ thro' the house, — 
My heart has been sae fain^ to see them, 
That I for joy hae barkit^ wi' them. 

Still it's owre^'^ true that ye hae said, 
Sic game is now owre aften play'd. 
There's monie" a creditable stock 
O' decent; honest, fawsonl^^ fo'k. 
Are riven out baith" root and branch, 
Some rascal's pridefu' greed to quench, 
\\ ha thinks to knit himsel' the faster 
In favour wi' some gentle master, 
W ha aiblins, thrang^^ a parliamentin', 
For Britain's guid his saul indentin'^^ — 

C-S:SAR. 

Haith, lad, ye little ken^* about it ; 
For- Britain^ s giiid ! — guid faith^^, I doubt it ! 
Sa\ rather, gaun^^ as Premiers lead him, 
An' saying aye or no^s they bid him : 
At operas an' plays parading. 
Mortgaging, gambling, masquerading ; 
Or may be, in a frolic daft^^, 
To Hague or Calais takes a waft, 
To make a tour, and tak'a whirl, 
To learn bon ton an' see the worl'. 



1 Liquor smokes. 7 Ones romping. 14 Who, perhaps, busy. 

2 Foam. 8 So glad. 15 Devoting his soul. 

3 Smoking. 9 Have barked. 16 Po ! po! sir, yet: 

4 Snuff-box. 10 Too. litile know. 

5 Good. 11 Many. 17 Forsooth. 
C The merry old folks 12 Seemly. 18 Going. 

conversing cheerfully. 13 Torn out both. 19 Mad. 



ROBERT BURNS. 85 

There, at Vienna or Versailles^ 
He rives his father's auld^ entails ! 
Or by Madrid he takes the rout, 
To thrum guitars, and fecht wi' nowt^ ; 
Or down Italian vista startles, 
Wh-re-hunting among groves o' myrtles : 
Then bouses drumly^ German water, 
To mak' himsel' look fair and fatter, 
An' clear the consequential sorrows. 
Love-gifts of Carnival signoras. 
For Britaiiis guid ! — for her destruction I 
Wi' dissipation, feud^ an' faction. 

LUATH. 

Hech man" ! dear sirs! is that the gate 
They waste sae mony a braw^ estate ! 
Are we sae foughten® an' harass'd 
For gear to gang^ that gate^ at last ! 

O would they stay aback frae^ courts, 
An' please themselves wi' countra^" sports, 
It wad^^ for every ane^^ be better, 
The Laird, the Tenant, an' the Cotter ! 
For thae^^ frank, rantin', ramblin' billies", 
Fient haet o' them's^^ ill-hearted fellows 
Except for breaking o' their timmer^*^, 
Or speakin' lightly o' their limmer", 
Or shootin' o' a hare or moor- cock, 
The ne'er a bit^^ they're ill to poor folk. 

But will ye tell me, Master desar. 
Sure great folk's life's a life o' pleasure ! 
Nae cauld or hunger e'er can steer^^ them, 
The vera^° thought o't^^ need na-^ fear them. 



5 



1 Old. 


9 From. 


16 Timber. 


2 Fight with bnlh. 


10 Country. 


17 Mistress. 


3 Drinks muddy. 


11 Would. 


13 By no means, 


4 tvonckrful ! 


12 One. 


19 Molest. 


5 So many a fine. 


13 Those. 


20 VciT. 


6 So troubled. 


14 Fellows. 


21 Of it. 


7 Money to };(). 


1 5 They are by 


no means. 22 IVo':. 


8 Wav. 







86 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

CiESAH. 

L — d, man, were ye but whyles whare^ I am, 
The gentles ye vvad^ ne'er envy 'em. 

It's true, they need na starve or sweat, 
Thro' winter's cauld, or simmer's^ heal ; 
They've nae sair vvark'' to craze their banes', 
An' fill auld age with grips an' granes^ : 
But human bodies^ are sic^ fools, 
For a' their colleges and schools, 
That when nae real ills perplex them, 
They mak' enow^ themsel's to vex them; 
An' ay^° the less they hae to sturt" them ; 
In like proportion less will hurt them; 
A country fellow at the pleugh^^ 
His acre's tilPd, he's right enough ; 
A country girl at her wheel. 
Her dizzen's^^ done, she's unco weeP"* : 
But Gentlemen, an' Ladies warst'*, 
Wi' ev'ndown^^ want o' wark^^ are curst. 
They loiter, lounging, lank, an' lazy ; 
Tho' deil haet^^ ails them, yet uneasy ; 
Their days insipid, dull, an' tasteless ; 
Their nights unquiet, lang", an' restless ; 
An' ev'n their sports, their balls, an' races, 
Their galloping through public places, 
There's sic parade, sic pomp, an art. 
The joy can scarcely reach the heart. 
The men cast out^° in party matches. 
Then sowther a'^^ in deep debauches : 
Ae^^ night they're mad wi' drink and wh — ring, 
Niest^^ day their life is past enduring. 
The ladies armin-arm in clusters. 
As great and gracious a' as sisters ; 

1 Sometimes where. 9 Plenty. 17 Work. 

2 Great you would. 10 Still 18 Nothing. 

3 Summer's. 11 Trouble. 19 Long. 

4 No hard toil. 12 Plough. 20 Fall out. 

5 Bones, 13 Dozen's of yarn. 21 Cement. 

6 Gripes and groans. 14 Very happy. 22 One. 

7 Beings. 15 Worst. 23 Next. 

8 Such. 16 Right down. 



ROBERT BURNS. 8r 

But hear their absent thoughts o' ither\ 
They're a' run deils an' jads thegither^ 
Whyles^ o'er the wee bit cup an' platie"*, 
They sip the scandal-potion pretty ; 
Or lee-lang^ nights, vvi' crabbit leuks^ 
Pore o'er the devil's pictur'd beuks^ ; 
Stake on a chance a farmer's stackyard, 
An' cheat Hke onie^ unhang'd blackguard. 

There's some exception, man an' woman j 
But this is Gentry's^ life in common. 

By this, the sun was out o' sight, 
An' darker gloaming^" brought the night : 
The bum-clock" humm'd wi' lazy drone ; 
The kye^* stood rowtin" i' the loan" ; 
When up they gat^^, and shook their lugs' ^, 
Rejoic'd they were na^^ men^ but dogs ; 
An' each took afF^^ his several way, 
Resolv'd to meet some ither^^ day. 



1 Of one another. 7 Books, (cnrc/s.) 14 Milking-placc 

2 All perfect devils and 8 Afiy. 15 Got. 
strumpetstogether. 9 Genteel. 16 Ears. 

3 Sometimes. 10 Evening. 17 Not. 

4 Little cup and saucer. 11 Large evening bug. 18 Went off. 

5 Live-long. 12 Cows. 19 Other. 

6 Cross looks. 1.5 IjOwinsr. 



8§|, THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

THE VISION. 

This is a poem of great and various excellence. It gradu- 
ally rises in sentiment and style, from the expression of 
a weary peasant's feelings, in the Doric dialect of his na- 
tive country, to the most elevated and solemn strain of 
poetry, ranking with the highest productions of the Eng- 
lish Muse. 



DUAN FIEST.* 
1. 

THE sun had clos'd the winter day, 
The curlers qual^ their roaring play, 
An' hunger'd maukin^ ta'en her way 

To kail-yards' green, 
While faithless snaws ilk" step betray 

Whare* she has been, 

2. 
The thresher's weary Jtmgin tree^ 
The lee-lang^ day had tired me ; 
And whan® the day had closed his e'e'', 

Far i' the west, 

Ben i' the speiice^^, right pensivelie, 

I gaed" to rest, 

3. 
There, lanely^^, by the ingle-cheek'\ 
I sat and ey'd the spewing reek'", 

1 Tlie players {at a 4 Snows each. 10 In tlie inner apart- 
Scottish game on ice , 5 Where, ment. 

called, Curling) had 6 Flail. 11 Went, 

quit- 7 Live-long. 12 Lonely. 

2 Hungry pussy {the 8 When. 13 Fire-side. 
^^are.) 9 Eye. 14 Smoke. 

3 Kitchen-gardens. 

* Duan, a term of Ossian's for the different divisions of a digressive poem, 
Sfc his Cath'Loda. vol. ii. of Macpherson's translation. 



ROBERT BURNS. S9 

That fillM wi' hoast^- provoking smeek% 

The auld^ clay biggin^ 

An' heard the restless ration's* squeak 
About the riggin^. 

4. 
All in this mottie^, misty clime, 
I backward mus'd on wasted time, 
How I had spent my youthfu' prime, 

And done nae^-thing. 
.But stringin' blethers^ up in rhyme, 
For fools to sing. 

5. 
Had I to guid'o advice but harkit'^^, 
I might by this, hae^^ led a market, 
Or strutted in a bank an* clarkit" 

My cash-account : 
While here, half-mad, half fed, half sarkit^^i 
Is a' the amount. 

6. 
I started, mutt'ring, blockhead ! coof " 1 
And heav'd on high my waukit loof'% 
To swear by a' yon starry roof, 

Or some rash aith". 
That I, henceforth, would be rhyme-proof 
Till my last breath. — 

7. 
When click ! the string the snick ^* did draw | 
And jee ! the door gaed to the wa'^^ ; 
An' by my ingle-lowe^° I saw. 

Now bleezin^* bright, 
A tight, outlandish Hizzie, braw^^. 

Come full in sight. 

16 Toil-hardened hand. 
IT Oath. 

18 Latch. 

19 Opened to the wall. 

20 Flame of the fire. 

21 Blazing. 

22 Young lady, hantt- 
somc. 



I Cough. 


8 No. 


2 Sraokiness, 


9 Nonsense. 


3 Old. 


10 Good. 


4 Building. 


11 Listened. 


5 Rats. 


12 Have. 


6 Top of the roof. 


13 Clerked. 


7 Full of raotes or 


14 Shirted. 


atoms. 


15 Ninny! 




M 



90 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

8. 
Ye need na^ doubt, I held my whisht* ; 
The infant aith', half formed, was crusht^ ; 
I glowr'd as eerie's* I'd been diisht^ 

In some wild glen ; 
When sweet, like modest worth, she blusht^ 
And stepped ben^ 

9. 

Green, slender, leaf- clad holly boughs 
Were t\^ isted, gracefu', round her brows : 
I took her for some Scottish Muse^ 

By that same token : 
An' come to stop those reckless vows, 

Wou'd soon be broken. 

10. 
A ' hair-brain'd, sentimental trace,' 
Was strongly marked in her face ; 
A wildly-witty rustic grace 

Shone full upon her ; 
Her eye, ev'n turned on empty space, 

Beam'd keen with honour. 

11. 

Down flow'd her robe, a tartan sheen^. 
Till half a leg was scrimply^" seen; 
And such a leg I my bonnie Jeari 

Could only peer it ; 
Sae straught^*, sae taper, tight and clean, 

Nane^^ else came near it. 

12. 

Her mantle large, of greenish hue, 
My gazing wonder chiefly drew : 
Deep lights and shades^ bold-mingling, threw 

A lustre grand ; 
And seem'd, to my astonish'd view, 

A well known land. 

y Bright. 

10 Scantly. 

1 1 So straight 

12 None, 



) Not. 


5 Stared as ten ifiei! as, 


9, Peace. 


6 Pushed by a bull. 


3 Oath. 


7 Blushed. 


4 Crushed. 


8 In, 



ROBERT BURNS- 91 

13. 
Here, rivers in the sea were lost ; 
There, mountains to the skies were tost : 
Here, tumbling billows mark'd the coast, 
With surging foam ; 
There distant shone Art's lofty boast, 
The lordly dome. 

14. 
Here, Boon pour'd down his far fetch'd floods ; 
There, well-fed Invine stately thuds* ; 
Auld hermit Ayr staw" thro' his woods, 

On to the shore ; 
And many a lesser torrent scuds^ 

With seeming roar. 

15. 

Low, in a sandy valley spread, 
An ancient borough rear'd her head ; 
Still, as in Scottish story read, 

She boasts a race, 
To ev'ry nobler virtue bred, 

And polish'd grace. 

16. 
*By stately tow'r on palace fair, 
Our ruins pendent in the air. 
Bold stems of heroes, here and there, 
I could discern ; 
Some seem'd to muse, some seem'd to dare. 
With feature stern. 

17. 

My heart did glowing transport feel. 
To see a racef heroic wheel, 
And brandish round the deep dy'd steel 
In sturdy blows ; 

i Roars OD the blast. 2 Stole. 3 Runs swiftly on. 

• This and the six followbg stanzas did not appear in the first, or Kilmar- 
nock Edition of the Poems. 
1. The Wallaces, 



9:2 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

While back-recoiling seem'd to reel 

Their suthron foes. 

18. 
His Country's Saviour, mark* him well 
Bold Richardton'^ s]- heroic swell ; 
The chief on SarkX who s^lorious fell. 

In hii^jh command ; 
And he whom ruthless fates expel 
His native land. 

19. 
There, where a sceptr'd Pictish shaded 
Stalk'd round his ashes lowly laid, 
I mark'd a martial race, portray'd 

In colours strong ; 
Bold, soldier-featur'd, undismav'd 

They strode along. 

20. ^ 
Thro' many a wild romantic grove, |j 
Near many a hermit-fancy'd cove, 
(Fit haunts for friendship or for love) 
In musing mood, 
An agedJiidge, I saw him rove. 

Dispensing good. 

21. 

With deep-struck reverential awe1[ 
The learned su^e and son I saw, 
To Nature's God and Nature's law 

They gave their lore, 

• William AVallaee. 

f Atlam Wallace, of Riehardton, cousin to tlie immortal preserver of Scot- 
tish independence. 

+ Wallace, Laird of Craigie, who was second in command, under Douglas, 
Earl of Ormond, at the famous battle on tlie banks of Bark, fought a7ino 1448. 
That glorious victory was principally owing to the judicious coriduci and intre- 
pid valour of the gallant Laird of ^Craigie, who died of bis wounds after the 
action. 

§ Coilus, king of the Picts, from the district of Kyle is said to take its name^ 
lies buried, as tradition says, near the family-seat of the Montgomeries of Coils- 
field, where his burial place is still shown. 

II Barskimming, the seat of the late I^ord Justice Clerk. 

i Catrine, the seat of the late Doctor, and present Professor Stewart. 



ROBERT BURNS. 93 

This all its source and end to draw, 
That, to adore. 

22. 
Brydone^s brave ward* I well could spy, 
Beneath old Scotia^ s smiling eye ; 
Who call'd on Fame, low standing by, 

To hand him on, 
Where many a patriot-name on high, 
And hero shone. 

DUAN SECOND. 

23. 
With musing-deep, astonishM stare, 
I view'd the heav'nly-seemingyazr ; 
A vvhisp'ring throb did vvitness bear, 

Of kindred sweet, 
When with an elder sister's air 

She did me greet. 

24. 

* All hail ! my own inspired bard ! 
' In me thy native muse regard ! 

* Nor longer mourn thy fate is hard, 

' Thus poorly low ! 

* I come to give thee such reward 

* As we bestow. 

25. 

* Know, the great genius of this land 

* Has many a light, aerial band, 

* Who, all beneath his high command, 

' Harmoniouslv, 
' As arts or arms they understand, 

' Their labours ply. 

26. 

* They Scotia's race among them share j 
' Some fire the soldier on to dare ; 

• Colonel FuUarton, 



94 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

* Some rouse the patriot up to bare 

* Corruption's heart : 

* Some teach the bard, a darling care, 

' The tuneful art. 

27. 

* 'Mong swelling floods of reeking gore, 

* They, ardent, kindling spirits pour ; 

* Or, 'mid the venal senate's roar, 

* They, sightless, stand, 
' To mend the honest patriot-lore, 

* And grace the hand. 

28. 
** And when the bard, or hoary sage, 
' Charm or instruct the future age, 

* They bind the wild poetic rage 

* In energy, 

* Or point the inconclusive page 

* Full on the eye. 

29. 

* Hence FuUarton the brave and young ; 

* Hence Dempster^ s zeal-inspiredf tongue ; 

* Hence sweet harmonious Beattie sung 

* His " Minstrel lays f 

* Or tore, with noble ardour stung, 

* The sceptic's bays. 

30. 

* To lower orders are assigned 

' The humbler ranks of Human kind, 

* The rustic Bard, the lab'ring Hind, 

* The Artisan ; 

* All chuse, as various they're inclin'd, 

* The various man. 

31. 

* When yellow waves the heavy grain, 

' The threat'ning storm some strongly rein ; 

• This stanza was not in the first Edition. 
t «' Truth-prevailing," First Edition. 



ROBERT BURNS. 95 



* Some teach to meliorate the plain, 

* With tillage-skill ; 

* And some instruct the shepherd-train, 

* Blithe o'er the hilL 

32. 

* Some hint the lover's harmless wile ; 

* Some grace the maiden's ardess smile ; 

* Some sooth the laborer's weary toil, 

' For humble gains, 
' And make his cottage-scenes beguile. 

* His cares and pains. 

33. 

* Some, bounded to a district-space, 

* Explore at large man's infant race, 

* To mark the embryotic trace 

' O^ rustic Bard; 

* And careful note each op'ning grace, 

* A guide and guard. 

34. 
' Of these am I^Coila^ my name ; 
' And this district as mine I claim, 

* Where once the Campbells^ chiefs of fame, 

' Held ruling pow'r : 
' I mark'd thy embryo tuneful flame, 
' Thy natal hour. 

35. 
' With future hope, I oft would gaze 

* Fond, on thy little early ways, 

* Thy rudely-caroll'd, chiming phrase, 

' In uncouth rhymes, 

* Fir'd at the simple, artless lays 

* Of other times. 

' I saw thee seek the sounding shore, 
' Delighted with the dashing roar ; 

* Burns took the idea of liis Muse, Coila From the Scota of Or. Beattie. 
See Dr. Seattle's Epistle tu Alexander Boss, the poet . 



9a THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

* Or when the north his fleecy store 

' Drove thro' the sky, 

* I saw grim Nature's visage hoar 

' Struck thy young eye. 

37. 

* Or when the deep-green mantPd earth 

* Warm cherish'd ev'ry flow'ret's birth, 

* And joy and music pouring forth 

' In ev'ry grove, 
' I saw thee eye the gen'ral mirth 

* With boundless love. 

38. 

* When ripen'd fields, and azure skies, 
' Call'd forth the reaper's rustling noise, 

' I saw thee leave their ev'ning joys, 

' And lonely stalk, 

' To vent thy bosom's swelling rise 
' In pensive walk. 

39. 

* When youthful love, warm-blushing, strong, 

* Keen shivering shot thy nerves along, 

* Those accents, grateful to thy tongue, 

' Th' adored Name^ 

* I taught thee how to pour in song, 

' To sooth thy flame. 

40. 

* I saw thy pulse's maddening play, 

* Wild send thee Pleasure's devious wav, 
11-1 ■' 

* Misled by Fancy's meteor ray, 

' By Passion driven ; 
' But yet the light that led astray 

' Was light from heaven. 

41. 

* I taught thy manners-painting strains, 
' The love's, the ways of simple swains, 



ROBERT BURNS. 97 

* Till now, o'er all my wide domains 

* Thy fame extends ; 

* And some, the pride of Collars plains, 

' Becdme thy friends. 

42. 

* Thou canst not learn, nor can I show, 

* To paint with Thomson^s landscape glow j 
' Or wake the bosom melting throe, 

* With Shenstone^s art ^ 

* Or pour with Gray^ the moving flow 

' Warm on the heart. 

43. 
' Yet all beneath th' unrivalFd rose, 

* The lowly daisy sweetly blows : 

* Tho' large the forest's monarch throws 

* His army shade, 

* Yet green the juicy hawthorn grows, 

* Adown the glade. 

44. 
' Then never murmur or repine ; 
' Strive in thy humble sphere to shine; 
^ And, trust me, not Potosi^s mine, 

' Nor king's regard, 
' Can give a bliss o'ermatching^ thine, 

* A rustic Bard. 

45. 

* To give my counsels all in one, 

« Thy tuneful flame still careful fan ; 

* Preserve the Dignity ofMan^ 

' With soul erect ; 

* And trust, the Universal Plan 

* Will all protect. 

46. 

* And wear thou tins' — she solemn said. 
And bound the Holly round my head : 

isr ■ 



98 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

The polish'd leaves, and berries red, 
Did rustling play ; 

And, like a passing diought, she fled 
In light away. 



MAUCHLINE* HOLY FAlRf. 



A robe of seeming truth and trust 

Hifl ciat'ty Observation ; 
And secret hung, with poison'd crust, 
. The dirk otDtfamation: 
A mask tliat like the gorget sbovs''d 

Dye-varying on the pigeon; 
And for a mantle large and broad. 

He wrapt him in Religion. 

Hypocrisy a-la-mode. 



UPON a simmer^ Sunday morn, 

When Nature's face is fair, 
I walked forth to view the corn, 

An' snuff the callar^ air. 
The rising sun owre^ Galston muirs'*, 

Wi' glorious light was glintin* ; 
The hares were hirplin^ down the furs^, 

The lavTocks^ they were chantin' 

Fu" sweet that day. 

2. 
As lightsomely I glowr'd^ abroad, 
To see a scene sae^° srav, 

1 Summer. 5 Peeping. S Larks. 

2 CfH)l. C Limping. 9 Looked. 

3 Over. 7 Furrows. 10 So. 

4 Heaths. 

* Mauchline is a town in Ayrshire. 

+ Holy Fair is a cant piirase in the W^est of Scotland for a sacramental oc- 
casion. As there is ahvays a number of ministers belongiog to the same 
Presbytery present to assist at this solemnity, a great multitude of people com- 
monly flock to the place, from different motives; too many from improper 
ones. 



ROBERT BURNS. 99 

Three Hizzies\ early at the road, 

Cam' skelpin^ up the way : 
Twa^ had manteeles'* o' dolefu' black, 

But ane wi' lyart* lining ; 
The Third,' that gaed a- wee a-back^ 

Was in the fashion shining, 

Fu' gay that day, 

3. 
The tzua appeared like sisters twin, 

In feature, form, an' claes^ ! 
Their visage wither'd, lang^, an' thin, 

An' sour as ony slaes^ ; 
The third cam' up, hap-step-an'-loup^";, 

As light as ony lambie^\ 
An' wi' a curchie^^ low did stoop. 

As soon as e'er she saw me. 

Fu' kind that day. 

4. 
Wi' bonnet" afF»^, quoth I, ' Sweet lass, 
' I think ye seem to ken^^ me ; 

* I'm sure I've seen that bqnnie face, 

' But yet I canna^® name ye.' 
Quo^^ she, an' luaughin' as she spak', 
An' tak's me by the hands, 
Ye, for my sake, hae gi'en the feck^^ 

* Of a' the ten commands 

* A screed^^ some'day. 

5. 

* My name is Fun — your cronie^" dear, 

* The nearest friend ye hae ; 

* An' this is Superstition here, 

* An' that Hypocrisy. 

1 Lasses. 8 Long. 15 Know. 

2 Walking with quick 9 Sloes. 16 Cannot, 
step. 10 Hop-step-aml-leap. 17 Quoth. 

3 Two. 11 Lambkin. 18 Hiive given the most; 

4 Mantles. 12 Courtesy. pint. 

5 One with grey. 13 &e J\'>>. 16, /»n^e 54. 19 Kent. 

C Went a little behind. 14 Off. 20 Comrade. 

7 Clothes. 



l6() THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

* Vm gaun to Mauchline Uol?/ Fair, 

To spend gn hour in daffin^ : 
« Gin ye'lP go there yon runkl'd' pair, 
< We will get famous laughin' 

* At them this day.' 

6. 

Quoth I, ' With a' my heart, Pll do't ; 

* Pll get my Sunday's sark"* on, 

* An' meet you on the holy spot : 

* Faith we'se hae fine remarkin' ! 
Then I gaed hame' at crowdie-time** 

An' soon I made me ready ; 
For roads were clad frae' side to side, 
Wi' monie® a weary body, 

In droves that day. 

7. 
Here farmers gash^ in ridin' graith^" 

Gaed hoddin by" their cotters'^ ; 
There, swankies" young, in braw braid-claith" 

Are springin' o'er the gutters^'. 
The lasses, skelpin barefit, thrang^®. 

In silks an' scarlets glitter ; 
Wi' sweet-milk cheese^'', in monie a whang", 

An^farls^^ bak'd wi' butter, 

Fu' crump^" that day. 

8. 
When by the plate^^ we set our nose, 
WeeP^ heaped up wi' ha'pence, 

1 Merriment. 12 Cottagers. 20 Crisp. 

2 If you will. IS ThII clever fellows. 21 The plate which, 

3 Wrinkled. 14 Broad-cloth. covered with o white 
4Shirt. 15 Small hollows filled linen cloih, stands at 
fWent home. with water. each entrance into the 
(Breakfast-time. 16 Hurrying on, bare- church, for the pur- 

7 Froiti. footed, throng. pose of receiving the 

8 With many. 17 Cheese made of un- collection for the 

9 Sagacious. skimmed milk. poor. 

10 Accoutrements. 18 Many a slice. 22 Well. 

11 Rode soberly beside, 19 Cakes. 



ROBERT BURNS. 



101 



A greedy glowr Black Bonnet' throws, 
An' we maun^ draw our tippence,^ 

Then in we go to see the show, 
On ev'ry side they're gatherin', 

Some carrying dales'*, some chairs an' stools, 
An' some are busy blethrin,* 

Right loud that day. 

9. 
Here stands a shed to fend' the show'rs, 

An' screen our countra Gentry,' 
There race7' Jess* an' twa-three^ wh — res, 

Are blinkin'^ at the entry. 
Here sits a raw^° of tittlin" jades, 

Wi' heavin' breast and bare neck, 
An' there a batch'^ of wabster^' lads, 

Blackguardin' frae" Kilmarnock rf- 
Yor fun this day. 

10. 
Here some are thinkin' on their sins, 

An' some upon their claes ;" 
Ane^® curses feet that fyl'd" his shins, 

Anither" sighs and prays : 
On this hand sits a chosen swatch, ^^ 

Wi' screvv'd up grace-proud faces; 
On that a set o' chaps'" at watch, 

Thrang^^ winkin' on the lasses 

To chairs that day- 



1 stare the Elder; 
called Black Bonnet, 
frovi the EUlei's'', {luho 
are officers of the 
Prcsbi/terian church) 
sometimes tueuring 
black bonnets to cor- 
respond with the other 
parts of their dress, 
tuhich is black, more 
especiallij at sacra- 



mental occasions. 

2 Must. 

3 i'wo-pence. 

4 Thin planks. 
.*; Chatting. 

G Shade to keep off. 

7 Country quality. 

8 Two or three. 

9 Blinking. 

10 Row. 

11 Whispering. 



12 Crew. 

1,S Weavesf. 

14 F^-om. 

15 Clothes. 

16 One. 

17 Dirtied. 

18 Another, 

19 Sample. 

20 Fellows. 

21 Busy. 



• J?acCT-Jl'ss, better known, perhaps, by the nick-name of BliiJcing Jess.- 
was a famous .attender of races, fur and cifrar, and was v. ry siccesstu! in riding 
ihem. He was blind in oui* i-ye ; lie. me the epitii^t, h^irJvng. 

\ A conside^rable manufacturing town, nine miles ^ ■ W. of M.i'ichhnc. 



102 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

11. 

O happy is that man an' blest! 

Nae^ wonder that it pride him 
Wha's ain^ dear lass, that he likes best, 

Comes clinkin^ down beside him ! 
Wi' arm repos'd on the chair-back. 

He sweetly does compose him ; 
Which, by degrees, slips round her neck, 

An's loof^ upon her bosom 

Unkenn'd^ that day. 

12. 

Now a' the congregation o'er 

Is silent expectation ; 
For Moodie speels*^ the holy door, 

Wi' tidings o' d-mn-t — on. 
Should Hornie'^ as in ancient days, 

'Mang® sons o' G — present him. 
The vera^ sight o' Moodie's face 

IVs ain het harne^" had sent him 

Wi' fright that day. 

13. 
Hear how he clears the points o' faith 

Wi' rattlin' an' thumpin' ! 
Now meekly calm, now wild in wrath, 

He's stampin' an' he's jumpin' ! 
His lengthen'd chin, his turn'd up snout," 

His eldritch squeeP^ and gestures, 
Oh, how they fire the heart devout. 

Like cantharidian plasters, 

On sic^^ a day ! 

14. 
But hark ! the tent^'^ has chang'd its voice ; 
There' peace an' rest nae longer ;^^ 



1 No. 


7 Satan -^called Hornie 


2 Own. 


from a popular notion 


.3 Jerking. 


that he has horns ! 


4 Anil liis hand. 


8 Among. 


5 Unnoticed. 


9 Vec). 


6 Ascends,. 


10 His own hot home. 



11 Nose. 

12 Frightful scream. 

13 Such. 

14 Tetriporary pulpit, 
used in the open ail'. 
15 No longer. 



ROBERT BURNS. 103 

For a' the real judges rise, 

They canna^ sit for answer. 
Smith opens out his cauld^ harangues 

On practice and on morals : 
An' aff^ the godly pour in thrangs,"* 

To gie* the jars and barrels 

A Hft^ that day. 

15. 

What signifies his barren shine 

Of moral powVs and reason ? 
His EngHsh style, an' gestures fine, 

Are a' clean out o' season. 
Like Socrates or Antoimie^ 

Or some auld^ pagan Heathen, 
The moral man he does define, 

But ne'er a word o' faith in 

That's right that day, 

16. 
In guid^ time comes an antidote 

Against sic poison'd nostrum ; 
For Peebles,* frae the water-fit, 

Ascends the holy rostrum : 
See, up he's got the word o' G — , 

An' meek an' mim^ has view'd it, 
While Common- Sense has ta'en the road, 

An' aff, an' up the Cowgate,t 

Fast, fast, that day. 

17. 

Wee Millar niest^°, the guard relieves, 

An' Orthodoxy raibles," 
Tho' in his heart he weel believes. 

An' thinks it aula wives' fables : 



1 Cannot. 


S Give. 


8 Good, 


2 Cold. 


C Pull. 


9 Prim. 


3 Off. 


7 Old. 


10 Next. 


4 Crowds. 




11 Babbles, 



• One of the ministers of Ary, wjiich (own is here called the " Water-fit," 
[Water-foot) because it stands on the river Ayr, where its waters join the 
Frith of Forth. 

t A street so called, which faces the tent in Mauchline. 



104 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

But, faith ! the birkie^ wants a manse,^ 

So, cannily he hums^ them ; 
Ahho' his carnal wit an' sense 

Like hafflins-ways^ overcomes him 
At times that day. 

18. 
Now butt an' ben^ the change-house fills, 

Wi' yill-caup^ commentators : 
Here's crying out for bakes and gills/ 

An' there the pint-stowp^ clatters ; 
While thick and thrang,^ an' loud an' lang," 

Wi' logic, an wi' Scripture, 
They raise a din, that in the end, 

Is like to breed a rupture 

O' wrath that day. 

19. 

Leeze me on Drink^^ ! it gies us mair^^ 

Than either School or College : 
It kindles wit, it waukens lair,*^ 

It pangs us fou^'' o' knowledge. 
Be't whisky gill, or penny wheep,^^ 

Or ony^^ stronger potion. 
It never fails, on drinking deep, 

To kittle^' up our notion 

By night or day. 

20. 
The lads an' lasses, blithely bent 

To mind baith sauP^ an' body, 
Sit round the table weel content. 

An' steer^^ about the toddy.^"* 

1 Clever tellow. 8 Half-gallon jug, wiat/e 12 Gives us more. 

2 Personage house. of peiuter, -with a lid, 13 Wakens learning. 

3 Dexterously he im- -which shuts ivith a 14 Crams us full, 
poses upon. clattering noise. 15 Small-beer. 

4 In some measure. 9 Numerous and 16 Any. 

5 In kitchen and par- crowded. 17 Tickle. J 
lour. 10 Long. 18 Both soul. m\ 

6 Ale-cup. 11 My blessings on 19 Stir. >" 

7 Crackers and ^ills of dn'nfc. 20 Punch, 
spiritous liquors. 



ROBERT BURNS. 105 

On this ane's^ dress, an' that ane's leuk^ 

They're making observations ; 
While some are cozie^ i' the neuk/ 

An' formin' assignations 

To meet some day. 

21. 
But now the L — d's ain* trumpet touts,^ 

Till a' the hills are rairin/ 
An' echoes back return the shouts : 

Black Russel is na spairin :^ 
His piercing words, like Highland swords, 

Divide the joints an' marrow ; 
His talk o' Hell, where devils dwell, 

Our vera sauls^ does harrow* 

Wi' fright that day« 

22. 
A vast, unbottom'd boundless pit, ' 

Fill'd fou o' lowin brunstane,^° 
Wha's^^ ragin' flarae, and scorchin' heat, 

Wad^^ melt the hardest whun-stane !^^ 
The half asleep start up wi' fear, 

An' think they hear it roarin'. 
When presently it does appear, 

'Twas but some neebour'"* snorin' 
Asleep that day. 

23. 
'Twad^* be owre lang^^ a tale, to tell 

How monie stories past. 
An' how they crowded to the yill," 

When they were a' dismist :** 
How drink gaed^^ round, in cogs an' caups,'^" 

Amang the furms^^ an' benches : 



1 One's. 




8 Not sparing. 


15 It would. 


2 On.-'s look. 




9 Very souls. 


16 Too long. 


3 Snug. 




10 Full of flaming brim- 


17 Ale. 


4 Corner, 




stone. 


18 All dismissed. 


5 Own. 




11 Whose. 


19 Went. 


6 Sounds. 




12 Would. 


20 In wooden dishes 


7 Roaring, 


-.uith 


its 13 Whin-stone. 


and cups. 


echoes. 




14 Neighbour. 
* Shakespeare's Hamltt 



21 Forms. 



106 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF 



An' cheese an' bread, frae women's laps, 
Was dealt about in lunches, 

An' dawds* that day. 

24. 
In comes a gaucie, gash Guidvvife,^ 

An' sits down by the fire, 
Syne^ draws her kebbuck'* an' her knife, 

The lasses they are shyer. 
The auld Guidmen,' about the grace,^ 

Frae side to side they bother,^ 
Till some ane by his bonnet lays, 

An' gi'es them't like a tether, 

Fu' lang® that day. 

25. 
Waesucks !^ for him that gets nae lass, 

Or lasses that hae naething ! ^° 
Sma' need has he to say a grace. 

Or melvie^^ his braw claithing !^^ 
O wives, be mindfu', ance yoursel'," 

How bonnie lads ye wanted, 
An' dinna,^* for a kebbuck-heel," 

Let lasses be affronted 

On sic a day ! 

26. 
Now Clinkumhell^^^ wi' rattlin' tow," 

Begins to jow an' croon ;*^ 
Some swagger hame, the best they dow,' 

Some wait the afternoon. 
At slaps the billies^^ halt a blink,^^ 

Till lasses strip their shoon :^^ 



1 Large pieces. 
'2 Jolly, sagacious old 
lady. 
3 Then, 
i Cheese. 

5 Old gentlemen. 

6 Blessing, at table. 

7 Teazingly solicit. 

8 Right long. 

9 Alas! 

to Have nothing. 



1 1 Soil -with thejlour of 
the bread. 

12 Fine clothes. 

13 Once yourselves. 

14 Do not. 

15 Cheese-crust: that 
ivhich remai7is after 
the mai7i body of the 
cheese has, in succes- 
sive slices, made its 
exit. 



16 The Church-beli. 

17 Rope. 

18 To give Its swinging 
peal and long-conti- 
nued moan. 

19 Are able. 

20 Young men. 

21 A short while* 

22 Shoes. 



ROBERT BURNS. lO:' 

Wi' faith and hope, an' love an' drink, 
They're a' in famous tune, 

For crack^ that day. 

27. 
How monie Jiearts this day converts 

O' sinners and o' lasses ! 
Their hearts o' stane gin^ night are gane,' 

As saft as ony"* flesh is. 
There's some are fou o'* love divine ; 

There's some are fou o' brandy : 
An' monie jobs that day begin, 

May end in Houghmagandie^ 

Some ither^ day. 



1 Conversation. 


4 Soft as any. 


6 F-rn-c-tion. 


2 Of stone ere. 


S Full of 


7 Other. 


3 Gone. 







ADDRESS TO THE DEIL. 

This Poem was produced in the winter of 1784. The curi- 
ous idea of such an Address was suggested to Burns, by 
punning over in his mind, the many ludicrous accounts and 
representations we have from various quarters, of this au- 
gust personage. 



O Prince! O Chief of many throned Pow'rs, 

That led the embattl'd Seraphim to var. MiLTOir, 



1. 

O THOU ! whatever tide suit thee, 
Auld^ Hornie, Satin, Nick, or Clootie. 
Wha^ in yon cavern grim an' sootie,^ 

Clos'd under hatches, 

1 Old. 5 Who. 5 Sooty 



lOd THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

Spairges^ about the brunstane cootie^, 

To scaud^ poor wretches I 

2. 
Hear me, auld Hangie*^ for a wee/ 
An' let poor, d-mned bodies be ; 
I'm sure sma'^ pleasure it can gie, 
E'en to a deil^ 
To skelp"' an',scaud poor dogs like me, 
An' hear us squeel ! 

3. 
Great is thy pow'r, an' great thy fame ; 
Far kend^ an' noted is thy name ; 
An' tho' yon lowin^ heugh's thy hame," 

Thou travels far ; 
An' faith ! thou's neither lag" nor lame, 

Nor blate^^ nor scaur.^^ 

4. 
Whyles,^'' ranging like a roaring lion, 
For prey, a'^* holes an' corners tryin' ; 
Whyles, on the strong-wing'd tempest flyin', 

Tirlin'^Mhe kirks;" 
Whyles, in the human bosom pryin'. 
Unseen thou lurks. 

5. 
I've heard my reverend Grannie say, 
In lanely"* glens ye like to stray ; 
Or where auld, ruin'd castles, gray. 

Nod to the moon, 
Ye fright the nightly wand'rer's way, 

Wi' eldritch croon.^' 

1 DaBlies or sprinkles. 7 To whip. 14 Sometimes. 

'2 Vessel coniaining 8 Known. 15 All. 

melted brimstoae. 9 Flaming pit. 16 Unroofing. 

3 Sc:il(l. 10 Home. 17 Churches. 

4 Hangman. 11 Lazy. 18 Lonely. 

5 A short time. 12 Bashful. 19 Frightful moan. 

6 Small. 13 Easily frightened. 



ROBERT BURNS. 109 

6. 
When twilight did my Grannie summon, 
To say her pray'rs, douce,^ honest woman ! 
Aft^ yont the dyke she's heard you bummin,^ 

Wi' eerie'* drone ; 
Or, rusdin, thro' the boortrees^ comin, 
Wi' heavy groan. 

_ 7. 
Ae^ dreary, windy, winter night, 
The stars shot down wi' sklentin' Hght ; 
Wi' you, mysel', I gat a fright, 

Ayont the lough ;* 
Ye, like a rash-bush^ stood in sight, 

Wi' waving sugh. 



10 



8. 
The cudgel in my nieve^^ did shake, 
Each bristl'd hair stood like a stake, 
When wi' an eldritch, stoor^^ quaick, quaick, 

Amang the springs, 
Awa^^ ye squatter'd^^ like a drake. 

On whistling wings. 

9. 
Let warlocks^^ grim? an' wither'd hags. 
Tell how wi' you on ragweed^ ^ nags. 
They skim the muirs^^ an' dizzy crags, 
Wi' wicked speed ; 
And in kirk ^* -yards renew their leagues, 
Ovvre^^ howkit^° dead. 

10. 
Thence, countra^^ wives, wi' toil an' pain, 
May plunge an' plunge the kirn^^ in vain ; 

1 Grave. 9 Bush of rushes. 15 Wizards. 

2 Oft behind the wall. 10 Whistling sound. 16 Hn-b ragwort. 

3 Humming. 11 Fist. n Monrs. 

4 Tt'rit^ir.g. lij Hoarse ery like that 18 Thurch-yards. 

5 The shrub elder. of a duck. 10 Over. 

6 One. 13 Awaj. '20 i>ig up. 

7 Slanting. 14 Fluttered on the 21 Country, 
S Beyond the lake. water. 22 Churn. 



110 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

*. 

For, Oh ! the yellow treasure's taen^ 

By witching skill ; • 
An' dawtit,* twal-pint Hawkie^s gaen 

As yell's the Bill. 

11. 

Thence, mystic knots mak' great abuse, 
On young Guidmen, fond, keen, an' crouse;" 
When the best vvark-lume* i' the house, 

By cantraip^ wit, 
Is instant made no^ worth a louse, 

Just at the bit. 

12. 

When thowes* dissolve the snawy^ hoord, 
An' float the jinglin icy-board. 
Then, water-kelpies^^ haunt the foord," 

By your direction. 
An' nighted trav'llers are allur'd 

To their destruction. 

13. 
An' aft your moss-traversing Spimkies^^ 
Decoy the wight that late an' drunk is : 
The bleezin', curst, mischievous monkies. 

Delude his eyes. 
Till in some miry slough he sunk is, 

Ne'er mair" to rise. 

14. 

When Masons mystic -word an' gripy 
In storms an' tempests raise you up, 
Some cock or cat your rage maun^^ stop, 

Or, strange to telb! 
The youngest Brother ye wad** whip 

Aflf straught to h-11. 

1 Taken, 

2 Fondled cow, -which 
gave twelve pints of 
milk, has gone as dry 
as the bull. 

3 Make. 



4 Brisk. 


10 Mischievous spirils, 


5 Work-loom. 


11 Ford. 


6 Magic. 


12 Ignis Fatuus. 


7 Not. 


13 More. 


8 Thaws. 


14 Must. 


9 Snowy. 


15 Would 



ROBERT BURNS. ill 

15. 
* Lang syne\ in Eden^s^ bonnie yard. 
When youthfu' lovers first were pair'd. 
An' all the Soul of Love they shar'd, 

The raptur'd hour, 
Sweet on the fragrant, flow'ry sward, 
In shady bow'r ; 

16. 
Then you, ye auld, snicks-drawing dog ! 
Ye cam to Paradise incog. 
An' play'd on man a cursed brogue,"* 

(Black be your fa' !') 
An' gied^ the infant warld a shog,^ 
'Maist^ ruin'd a'. 

17. 
D'ye mind that day, when in a bizz,* 
Wi' reekit^ duds, an' reestit*" gJzz, 
Ye did present your sraoutie phiz, 

'Mang better folk, 
An' sklented" on the man of Uzz 

Your spitefu' joke ? 



18. 
An' how ye gat him i' your thrall. 
An' brak him out o' house an' hal', 
While scabs an' blotches did him gall, 

Wi' bitter claw, 
An' lows'd,*^ his ill-tongu'd wicked scawl,^ 
Was warst^^ ava ? 

1 Long since. 6 Shock. 1 1 Threw a sia;:t. 

2 Paradise. 7 Almost. 12 Loosened. 

3 Tricking. 8 Bustle. 13 Scold. 

4 Trick. 9 With smoked clothes. 14 AVorsr of a!!-. 

5 Gave. 10 Vv'itheicd wig. 

* This stanza ran originally thus : 

Lanj Syne in Eden's happy scene, 
When strappin Adam's days were grecr^ 
And Eve was like my bonnie Jean, 

iVIy dearest part, 
A dancin', sweet, young, handsome queati. 

Wi' guiltless heart. 



112 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

19. 
But a' your doings to rehearse, 
Yoi^r wily snares an' fechtin^ fierce, 
Sin'^ that day Michael* did you pierce, 
Down to this time. 
Wad ding^ a Lallan^ tongue, or Erse,* 
In prose or rhyme. 

20. 
An' now, auld Cloots^ I ken® ye're thinkin', 
A certain Bardie's rantin', drinkin', 
Some luckless hour will send him linkin',' 

To your black pit ; 

But, faith ! he'll turn a corner jinkin',^ 

And cheat you yet. 

21. 
But, fare you weel, auld Nickie-ben! 

vvad ye tak^ a thought an' men' ! 
Ye aiblins^" might — I dinna" ken — 

Still hae'^ a stake — 
I'm wae^^ to think upo' yon den, 

Ev'n for your sake ! 

1 Frighting, 6 Know. 10 Perhaps. 

2 Since. 7 Tripping. 11 Don't know 

3 Defeat. 8 Dodging. 12 Have. 

4 Lowland. 9 Take. 13 Grieved. 

5 Highland. 

* Vide MuTox, Book vi. 



ROBERT BURNS. li: 



DEATH 



A N Py 



DOCTOR HORNBOOK: 



A TRUE STOKV 



This poem was produced as early as the year 1785. Mr. 
John Wilson, the school-master, then of Tarbolton parish, 
to eke out the scanty subsistence allowed to that useful 
class of men, had set up a shop of grocery goods. Hav- 
ing accidentally fallen in with some medical books, and 
become rather hohby-horsically attached to the study of 
medicine, he had added the sale of a few medicines to his 
other trade. He had got a shop-bill printed, at the bot- 
tom of which, overlooking his own incapacity, he had ad- 
vertised, that " Advice would be given in common disor- 
ders, at the shop, gratis." Burns was at a mason-meeting 
in Tarbolton, when the schoolmaster importunately made 
too ostentatious a display of his medical skill. After the 
Bard had departed in the evening, from this mixture of 
pedantry and physic, at the place where he describes 
meeting Death, one of those floating ideas of apparition, 
the effect of listening to superstitious stories when young, 
crossed his mind, and set him to work for the rest of the 
way home. Next day, while he was at work in the field 
beside his brother Gilbert, he related to him the circum- 
stances above mentioned, and repeated the poem. It 
would be injustice to omit that Mr. Wilson was in reality 
a man of worth, and that he was led into the eccentricity 
ridiculed by Burns, through motives of benevolence and 
humanity. Burns knew this, and afterwards regretted that 
this lampoon found its way into the world. It was not his 
serious intention to hurt the feelings of an individual, 
whose " failings leaned to virtue's side." But it was not 
in the poet's power to prevent the progress of the shaft he 
had flung from him in a moment of careless mirth and 
witty mischief. Mr. Wilson has long been a respectable 
teachei: in Glasgow. 



114 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

1. 
SOME books are lies frae' end to end, 
And some great lies were never penn'd : 
Ev'n Ministers, they hae' been kenn'd,^ 

In holy rapture, 
A rousing whid,* at times, to vend, 

And nail't wi' Scripture. 

2. 
But this that I am gaun'' to tell. 
Which lately on a night befel. 
Is just as true's the Deil's in h~ll, 

Or Dublin city : 
That e'er he nearer comes ourseP 

'S a muckle^ pity, 

3. 
The Clachan' yill had made me canty,' 
I was na^ fou, but just had plenty ; 
I stacher'd'° whyles, but yet took tent" ay 

To free the ditches : 
An' hillocks, stanes,^^, and bushes, kenn'd^^ ay 

Frae ghaists^* aa' witches. 

4. 
The rising moon began to glow'r" 
The distant Cumnock hills out-owre;'*^ 
To count her horns, wi' a' my pow'r, 

I set mysel' ; 
But whether she had three or four, 

I cou'd na tell. 

5. 
I was come round about the hill, 
And todlin'^^ down on Willie^ s mill^ 
Setting my staff wi* a' my skill. 

To keep me sicker;^® 

1 From. 7 Village ale. 13 Knew. 

2 Have. 8 Merry. 14 Ghosts. 

3 Known. 9 Not drunk. 15 Stare. 

4 Lie. 10 Staggered sometimes. 16 Oyer. 

5 Going. 11 Care. 17 Tottering 

6 Great- 12 Stones. 18 Secare. 



ROBERT BURNS, 115 

Tho' leeward whyles, against my will, 
I took a bicker.^ 

6. 

I there wi' Something did forgather,^ 

That put me in an eerie^ swither ; 

An awfu' scythe, out-owre ae shouther/ 

Clear-dandling, hang ; 
A three-taed* leister on the ither^ 

Lay, large an' lang,' 

7. 
Its stature seemM lang Scotch ells twa,^ 
The queerest shape that e'er I saw, 
For fient® a wame^° it had ava ;^^ 

And then, its shanks, 
They were as thin, as sharp an' sma'^^ 

As cheeks" o' branks. 

* Guid'een,'^* quo' I ; " Friend ! hae" ye been, 

ma win" ^^ 
' When ither folk are busy sawin ?*^^ 
It seem'd to mak^* a kind o' stan',^* 

But naething^'' spak ; 
At length says I, ' Friend, whare"' ye gaun, 
' Will ye go back ?' 

9. 
It spak right howe,^^ — ' My name is Death, 
' But be na' fley'd'."— Quoth I, ' Guid^^ faith ! 

* Ye're may be come to stap^* my breath ; 

' But tent^^ me billie ; 

1 A short race. 11 At all. 20 Spoke nothing. 

a Met with. 12 Small. 21 Where are ye going. 

3 Timorous doubt. 13 Wooden cheeks of a 22 Hollow voice. 

4 One shoulder. bridle, (see Glossary.) 2.3 Not frightened. 

5 Three pronged dart. 14 Good evening says I. 24 Good. 
Other. 15 Have. 25 Stop. 

7 Long. 16 Mowing. 26 Mind me friend, I 

8 Two. 17 Sowing. warn you well, take 

9 Fiend. 18 Make. care of harm. 
10 Belly. 19 Stop. 

* This rencounter happened in seed-time, 1785. 



116 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

* I red ye weel, tak care o' skaith, 

' See, there's a gully !" 

10. 

* Guidman,' quo' he, ' put up your whittle,^ 
< I'm no designed to try its mettle ; 

« But if I did", I vvadM^e kittle- 

' To be mislear'd,* 

' I wad na mind it, no, that spittle 

' Out ovvre my beard.' 

11. 

' Weel*, weel !' says I, ' a bargain be't ; 

' Come, gies^ your hand, an' sae' we're gree't f 

' We'll ease our shanks an' tak a seat, 

' Come, gies your news ; 
' This while* ye hae been mony a gate^** 

' x^t mony" a house.' 

12. 
' Ay, ay !' quo^^ he, ' an' shook his head, 

* It's e'en a lang, lang time indeed 
' Sin' I began to nick the thread, 

' An' choke the breath : 

* Folk maun'^ do something for their bread, 

' An' sae maun Death. 

13. 
' Sax^'* thousand years are near hand fled 
' Sin' I was to the butching'^ bred, 
' An' mony a scheme in vain's been laid, 
' To stap or scar me ; 

* Till ane Uornboo/c's^ ta'en up the trade, 

* An' faith, he'll waur** me. 

12 Yes, yes, says he. 

13 Must. 

14 Six. 

15 Butchering. 

16 Overcome. 



* An epidemical fever was tlien raging in that country. 

f This gentleman, Dr. Hornbook, is professionally , a brother of the Sover- 
eign Order of the Ftrula ; but, by intuition and inspiration, is at once an Apo- 
thecary, Surgeon and Physician. , 



1 Knife. 


7 Give us. 


2 Knife. 


8 So. 


3 Would. 


9 Agreed, 


4 Difficult. 


10 Way. 


5 Overcame. 


11 Many. 


6 Wall. 





ROBERT BURNS. U7 

14. 

* Ye ken^ Jock Hornbook i' the Clachan, 

' Deil mak his king's-hood^ in a spleuchan \^ 
' He's grown sae well acquaint vvi' Buchan* 

* An' ither" chaps, 
' The weans^ hand out their fingers laughin' 

' An' pouk® my hips. 

15. 

' See here's a scythe, and there's a dart, 
' They hae pierc'd mony a gallant heart ; 
' But Doctor Hornbook^ wi' his art 

' And cursed skill, 
' Has made them baith^ no worth a f — t, 

' Damn'd haet' they'll kill. 

16. 

* 'Twas but yestreen^ nae farther gaen," 
' I threw a noble throw at ane ; 

' Wi' less, I'm sure, I've hundreds slain ; 
' But deil-ma-care, 

* It just play'd dirl" on the bane/^ 

' But did nae mair.'^ 

17. 

' Hornbook was by, wi' ready art, 
' And had sae fortify'd the part, 
' That when I looked to my dart, 

' It was sae blunt, 
' Fient" haet o't wad hae piere'd the heart 

'Of a kaiP*-runt. 

18. 

* I drew my scythe in sic^" a fury, 

' I nearhand" cowpit wi' my hurry, 

1 Know. 7 Both. 13 No more. 

2 A part of the entrails. 8 Thing, 14 Fiend a bit of it 

3 Tobacco pouch. 9 Last-night. 15 Cabbage stem. 

4 Other fellows. 10 Gone. 16 Such. 

5 Children hold. 11 Tremulous stroke. 17 Almost fell. 

6 Pluck. 12 Bone. 

* Buchan's Domestic Medicine. 



118 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

' But yet the bauld^ Apothecary 

* Withstood the shock ; 

* I might as weel hae try'd a quarry 

' O' hard whin rock. 

19. 
' Ev'n them he canna^ get attended, 

* Ahho' their face he ne'er had kend it, 

' Just in a kaiP-blade, and send it, 

* As soon he smells't, 

' Baith* their disease, and what will mend it, 

* At once he tells't. 

20. 
^ An' then a' doctor's saws and whitdes, 
' Of a' dimensions, shapes, an' mettles, 
' A' kinds o' boxes, mugs, an' botdes, 

* He's sure to hae ; 

* Their Latin names as fast he rattles 

* As A. B. C. 

21. 

* Calces o' fossils, earth, and trees : 

* True Sal-marinum, o' the seas ; 

* The Farina of beans and pease, 

' He has't in plenty ; 
' Aqua-fontis, what you please, 

* He can content ye. 

22. 

* Forbye^ some new, uncommon weapons, 

* Urinus Spiritus of capons ; 

* Or Mite-horn shavings, filings,, scrapings ; 

* Distill'd per se ; 
' Sal-alkali o' Midgetail clippings, 

* And mony^ mae.' 

23. 

* Waes' me for Johnny Ged's Hole^ now,' 
Quo' I, * If that the news be true ! 

1 Bold. 4 Both. 6 Many more. 

2 Cannot. 5 Besides. 7 W^oe is me. 
5 Cabbage leaf. 

* The grave-digger. 



ROBERT BURNS. 119 

* His braw^ calf-ward whare^ gowans grew, 

' Sae white and bonnie, 

* Nae doubt they'll rive it wi' the plew f 

' They'll ruin Johnnie f 

24. 
The creature grain'd" an eldritch' laugh, 
And says, * Ye need na yoke the pleugh,^ 

* Kirk'^-yards will soon be till'd eneugh,* 

' Tak^ ye nae fear : 
' They'll a' be trench'd wi' mony a sheugh*" 

• In tvva"-three year. 

25. 

* Whare I killed ane a fair strae^^ death, 

* By loss o' blood or want o' breath, 

* This night I'm free to tak my aith/^ 

' That Hornbook's skill 

* Has clad a score i' their last claith," 

♦ By drap" an' pill. 

26. 

* An honest Wabster^^ to his trade, 

' Whase^^ wife's twa" nieves were scarce weel bred. 

* Gat'^ tippence-worth to mend her head, 

* When it was sair;^° 

* The wife slade^^ cannie to her bed, 

* But ne'er spak mair. 

27. 
' A countra" Laird had ta'en the batts,^* 

* Or some curmurring^* in his guts, 

* His only son for Hornbook sets, 

' An' i^ays him well : 

* The lad, for twa guid^^ gimmer pets, 

' Was laird himsel'.^^ 



32 



1 Fine. 


10 Ditch. 




19 Got two-pence. 


2 W'heredaiseys. 


11 A few. 




20 Sore. 


3 Plough. 


12 Narural death. 


21 Went quietly. 


4 Groaned. 


ir> Oath. 




2'2 Spoke more. 


5 Fearful. 


14 Cloth. 




23 Country landholc'i 


6 Plongh. 


15 Drop. 




24 Bolts. 


7 Church-yanls. 


16 Weaver. 




25 Grumbling. 


8 Enough. 


17 Whose. 




26 (iood pet ewps. 


9 Take. 


JS Two bar 


ids.. 


27 Hirosftf. 



laO THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

28. 

* A bonnie lass, ye kend her name, 

* Some ill-brewn^ drink had hov'd^ her wame 

* She trusts hersel', to hide the shame, 

' In HornbooPs care ; 
' Horn sent her aff" to her lang hame,* 
' To hide it there. 

29. 
' That's just a swatch^ o' Hornbook's way ; 

* Thus goes he on from day to day, 

' Thus does he poison, kill, an' slay, 

' An's weel paid for't ; 

< Yet stops me o' my lawfu' prey, 

i Wi' his d-mnM dirt : 

30. 
' But, hark ! PU tell you of a plot, 

< Tho' dinna^ ye be speaking o't ; 

< I'll nail the self-conceited sot, 

* As dead's a herrin' . 

* Niest' time we meet, I'll wad^ a groat, 

' He gets his fairin' !' 

31. 

But just as he began to tell. 

The auld'° kirk-hammer strak'^ the bell 

Some wee^^ short hour ayont^' the twal, 

Which rais'd us baith : 
I took the way that pleas'd mysel'. 

And sae did Death. 



1 Brewed. 


6 Pattern. 


10 Old Church. 


2 Swelleil. 


7 Do not. 


11 Struck. 


3 Bellv. • 


8 Next. 


12 Little. 


4 Off.' 


9 PUds^c. 


13 Bejond twelve 


5 Long home. 







ROBERT BURNS. 121 



SCOTCH DRINK. 



Gie* him strong drink, until he wink. 

That's sinking in despair; 
An' liquor guid,2 to fire his bluid,3 

Thai's prest wi' grief an' care ; 
There let him bouse, an' deep carouse, 

Wi'4 bumpers flowin' o'er, 
Till he forgets his loves or debts. 

An' minds his griefs no more. 

SoLOMoir's PaovsBBs, xxxi, 6, 7. 



1. 

LET other Poets raise a fracas, 
'Bout vines, an' wines, and drunken Bacchus^ 
An' crabbit* names an' stories wrack us, 

An' grate our lug,® 
I sing the juice Scots bear'' can mak^ us, 

In glass or jug. 

2. 
O thou, my Muse ! guid auld' Scotch Drinks 
Whether thro' wimpling^° worms thou jink,^^ 
Or, richly brown, ream^^ o'er the brink, 

In glorious faem,^^ 
Inspire me,' till I lisp and wink. 

To sing thy name : 

3. 

Let husky Wheat the haughs^" adorn, 
An' Aits^* set up their awnie^' horn. 
An' Peas and Beans at e'en or morn, 

Perfume the plain, 
Leeze" me on thee, John Barleycorn^ 

Thou king o' grain ! 



t Give. 

2 Good. 

3 Blood, 

4 With. 

5 Crabbed, 

6 Ear. 



7 Barley. j 


13 Foam. 


8 jVtake. 


14 Valleys. 


9 Old. 


15 Oats. 


10 ^Meandering. 


16 Bearded. 


11 Turn. 


17 My warmest wished 


\9. Froth. 





122 THE POETICAL WORKS OF ^ 

4. 
On thee aft^ Scotland chovvs^ her cood,3 
In souple'* scones, the wale* o' food ! 
Or tumblin' in the boiling flood 

Wi'kail^ an' beef; 
But when thou pours thy strong heart's blood, 
There thou shines chief. 

5. 
Food fills the wame/ and keeps us livin ; 
Tho' life's a gift no worth receivin', 
When heavy dragg'd wi' pine^ an' grievin' ; 

But, oil'd by thee. 
The wheels o' life gae^ down-hill scrievin',^" 
Wi' rattlin' glee. 

6. 
Thou clears the head o' doited" Lear ;^^ 
Thou cheers the heart o' drooping Care ; 
Thou strings the nerves o' Labour sair/^ 

At's weary toil ; 
Thou even brightens dark Despair, 

W^i' gloomy smile= 

7. 
Aft, clad in massy silver weed, 
Wi' Gendes thou erects thy head ; 
Yet humbly kind in time o' need, 

The poor man's wine, 
His wee^"* drap^* parritch", or his bread, 
Thou kitchens" fine. 

8. 
Thou art the life o' public haunts ; 
But thee, what were our fairs and rants? 
Ev'n godly meetings o' the saunts," 
By thee inspir'd, 

13 Sore. 

14 Small. 

15 Drop. 

16 Oatmeal pudding 

17 Relishes. 

18 Saints. 



1 Oft. 


7 Belly. 


2 Chews. 


8 Pain. 


a CiKi. 


9 Go. 


4 Soft cakes. 


10 Swiftlv. 


.'> Choice. 


11 Stupid. 


6 Greens. 


12 Learning. 



i 



ROBERT BURNS. 123 

When gaping they besiege the tents, ^ 
Are doubly fir'd. 

9. 
That merry night we get the corn in, 
O sweetly then thou reams the horn in I 
Or reekin/ on a New-year mornin' 

In cog^ or bicker, 
An' just a wee drap spiritual burn'* in, 
An' gusty sucker !* 

10. 
When Vulcan gi'es^ his bellows breath, 
An' ploughmen gather wi' their graith,^ 
O rare ! to see thee fizz an' freath,^ 

1' th' lugget^ caup ! 
Then Burneiuin* comes on like death 
At ev'ry chaup." 

11. 

Nae^^ mercy, then, for airn^^ or steel ; 
The brawnie, bainie'^, ploughman chiel,'" 
Brings hard owrehip^^, wi' sturdy wheel, 

The strong forehammer, 
Till block an' studdie^^ ring and reel 

Wi' dinsome clamour. 

12. 

When skirlin'^^ weanies see the light, 
Thou maks^^ the gossips clatter bright, 
How fumblin' cuifs" their dearies slight ; 

Wae^° worth the name ! 
Nae howdie^* gets a social night, 

Or plack^^ frae^^ them. 

1 Field pulpits. 10 Blow or stroke. 17 Crying infants. 

2 Smoking. 11 No. 18 Makes. 

3 Wooden dishes. 12 Iron. 19 Blockheads. 

4 Whiskj'. 13 Having large bones. 20 Woe be to. 

5 Savoury sugar. 14 Lad. 21 Midwife. 

6 Gives. 15 Act of striking with 22 A small piece of rao- 

7 Farming utensils. the sledge hammer. ney. 

8 Hiss and froath. 16 Anvil. 23 From. 

9 Wooden drinking 
vessel. 

• Btinunnn — Burn-the-ii>ind — the blacksmith — an appropriate title. E. 



124 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

13. 

When neebors^ anger at a plea. 
An' just as wud* as wud can be, 
How easy can the barley-bree^ 

Cement the quarrel ; 
It's aye" the cheapest lawyer's fee, 

To taste the barrel. 

14. 
Alake !^ that e'er my Muse has reason 
To vvyte® her countrymen wi' treason ! 
But monie^ daily weet® their weason^ 
Wi' liquors nice, 
An' hardly, in a winter's season. 

E'er spier^" her price. 

15. 
Wae worth that brandy^ burning trash ! 
fell source o' monie a pain an' brash ! 
Twins" monie a poor, doylt,^' drunken hash,^^ 

O' half his days ; 
An' sends, beside, auld Scotland's cash 
To her warst^* faes. 

16. 
Ye Scots, wha" wish auld Scotland well ! 
Ye chief, to you my tale I tell. 
Poor plackless^^ devils like mysel' !^' 

It sets you ill, 
Wi' bitter, dearthfu"' wines to mell,^^ 
Or foreign gill. 

17. 

May gravels round his blather-" wrench, 
An' gouts torment him inch by inch, 
Wha twists his gruntle" wi' a glunch*^ 
O' sour disdain, 

1 Neighbours. 9 Throat. 16 Moneyless. 

2 Mad at each other. 10 Ask. 17 Myself, 
.t Malt liquors. 11 Deprives. 18 Dear. 

4 Always. 12 Stuoid. 19 Intermeddle 

5 Alas. 13 Slov.-n. 20 Bladder. 

6 Blame. 14 Worst foes. 21 Face. 

7 Many. 15 Who. 22 Pout. 

8 Wet. 



ROBERT BURNS. 125 



Out owFe^ a glass of whisky punch 
\Vi' honest men. 



18. 
O Whisky ! soul o' plays an' pranks ! 
Accept a Bardie's humble thanks ! 
When wanting thee, what tuneless cranks 
Are my poor verses ! 

Thou comes they rattle i' their ranks 

At ither's^' a-***s ! 

19. 
Thee, Ferintosh P O sadly lost ! 
Scotland, lament frae coast to coast ! 
Now colic grips,'*, and bark in' hoast,* 

May kill us a' ; 
For loyal Forbes' charter'd boast 
Is ta'en awa' !° 

20. 
Thae^ curst horse-leeches o' th' Excise, 
Wha mak the TVhisky Stells their prize ! 
Hand* up thy han',^ Deil ! ance, twice, thrice ! 
There, seize the blinkers ! 
An' bake them up in brunstane^° pies 

For poor d — n'd drinkers. 

21. 
Fortune ! if thou'll but gie me still 
Hale" breeks, a scone,^^ an' Whisky gill. 
An' rowth'^ o' rhyme to rave" at will, 

Tak' a' the rest, 
An' deal't about as thy blind skill 

Directs thee best. 

1 Over. 

2 Other's. 
.1 Whisky of a superior 

quality. 
4 Cholic gripes. 



5 Cough. 


10 Brimstone. 


6 Away. 


11 Whole breeches. 


7 These. 


12 Cake of bread. 


8 Hold. 


13 Abundance. 


9 HaiKf, 


fi Write an(! r<=?i"arsfc. 



126 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

THE AUTHOR'S 

EARNEST CRY AND PRAYER* 

TO THE 

SCOTCH REPRESENTATIVES 

IN THE 

HOUSE OF COMMONS. 



Dearest of Distillation! last and best 

How art thou lost ! 

Pakodx on Mivfo>-, 

1. 

YE Irish Lords, ye Knights an' Squires, 
Wha^ represent our brughs^ an' shires. 
An' doucely' manage our affairs 

In parliament, 
To you a simple Poet's prayers 

Are humbly sent. 

2. 
Alas my roupet^ Muse is hearse !' 
Your honour's heart wi' grief 'twad^ pierce, 
To see her sittin' on her a — 

Low i' the dust, 
An' scriechin" out prosaic verse, 

An' like to brust !* 

3. 
Tell them wha^ hae the chief direction, 
Scotland an' trie's in great affliction, 

1 Who. 

2 Boroughs. 

3 Prudently. 

• This was written before the act anent the iBcoteh distilleries, of sessioi. 
1786 ; for which Scotland and the Author return their most grateful thanks 



4 Worn out. 


7 Shrieking. 


5 Hoarse. 


8 Burst. 


6 It Would. 


f 9 Who has. 



ROBERT BURNS. 127 

E'er sin" they laid that curst restriction 

On Aquavita; ; 
An' rouse them up to strong conviction, 

An' move their pity. 

4. 
Stand forth an' tell yon Premier Youthy* 
The honest, open, naked truth : 
Tell him o' mine an' Scotland's drouth,^ 
His servants humble : 
The muckle^ devil blaw" ye south, 
If ye dissemble ! 

5. 
Does ony^ great man gkinch^ an' gloom ! 
Speak out an' never fash^ your thumb ! 
Let posts an' pensions sink or soom* 

Wi' them wha grant 'em : 
If honestly they canna^ come, 

Far better want 'em. 

6. 
In gath'ring votes you were na^° slack; 
Now stand as tightly by your tack ; 
Ne'er claw^^ your lug, an' fidge^" your back, 

An' hum an' haw ; 
But raise your arm, an' tell your crack^^ 
Before them a'. 

7. 
Paint Scotland greeting" owre^* her thrissle ;*^ 
Her mutchkin'^ stoup as toom's" a whissle j'^ 
An' d-mn'd Excisemen in a bussle, 

Seizin' a Stell^ 
Triumphant crushin't like a musseP" 
Or lampit-^ shell, 

15 Over. 

16 Thistle. 

17 Pint measure. 

18 Empty. 

19 Whistle. 

20 Muscle. 

21 Limpid. 

• William Pitt, son of the famous Earl of Chatham. 



1 Since. 


8 Swim. 


2 Drought. 


"J Cannot. 


o Great. 


10 Not. 


4 Blow. 


11 Scratch your ear. 


5 Any. 


12 Fidget. 


6 Look sour. 


13 Story. 


7 Trouble. 


14 Weeping. 



128 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

8. 

Then on the tither* hand present her, 
A blackguard Smuggler right behint^ her, 
An cheek-for-chow^ a chuffie Vintner, 

Colleaguing join, 
Picking her pouch^ as bare as winter 

Of a' kind coin. 

9. 

Is there, that bears the name o' Scot^ 
But feels his heart's bluid* rising hot. 
To see his poor auld** Mither's pot 

Thus dung^ in staves, 
An' plunder'd o' her hindmost groat 

By gallows knaves? 

10. 
Alas ! I'm but a nameless wight, 
Trode i' the mire out o' sight ! 
But could I like Montgomeries'^ fight, 

Or gab^ like Boswell^] 
There's some sark^-necks I wad^° draw tight, 
And tie some hose well, 

11. 

God bless your Honours, can you see't, 
The kind, auld, cantie" Carlin" greets" 
An' no get warmly to your feet, 

An' gar^"* them hear it, 
An' tell them wi' a patriot heat, 

Ye winna^^ bear it ? 

12. 
Some o' you nicely ken^^ the laws, 
To round the period an' pause, 
i\n' wi' rhetoric clause on clause 

To mak^^ harangues ; 



J Other. 


7 Knocked. 


13 Weep. 


2 Behind. 


8 Speak. 


14 Make. 


3 Tete-a-tete. 


9 Shirt-collars. 


15 Will not. 


4 Pocket. 


10 Would. 


16 Know. 


5 Blood. 


11 Merry. 


17 Make. 


6 Old mother's. 


1'2 Old woman. 





The Earl of Eglinton's family, f Boswell of Auchinleek. 



ROBERT BURNS. 129 

Then echo thro' Saint Stephen' wa's^ • 

Auld Scotland's wrangs.^ 

13. 
Dempster,* a true bkie Scot, I'se^ warran ; 
Thee, aith^ detesting, chaste KUkerran ;\ 
An' that ghb-gabbet* Highland Baron, 

The'Laird*^ o' Graham :% 
An' ane^ a chap* that's d — n'd auldfarran,^ 
Dundas\ his name. 

14. 
Erskincy a spunkie" Norland billie ;" 
True Campbells i Frederick, an' Hay ;\\ 
An' Livingstone^ the bauld^^ Sir Willie ; 

An' monie" ithers, 
Whom auld Demosthenes or TuUy 

Mis;ht own for brithers." 

15. 

Arouse my boys ! exert your mettle. 
To get auld Scotland back her kettle ; 
Or faith ! I'll \vad"my new pleugh-petde,^^ 

Ye'Il see't or lang," 
She'll teach you, wi' a reekin^^ whittle,^^ 

Anither^" sang. 

16. 

This while she's been in crankous^^ mood, 
Her lost Militia fir'd her bluid : 
(Deil na they never mair^' do guid,," 

Play'd her' that pliskie l^") 

1 Walls. 9 Cunning. 17 E'er long. 

2 Wrongs. 10 Spirited. 18 Smoking. 

3 I'll warrant. 11 Young man. 19 Dirk. 

4 Oa(h-detesting. 12 Bold. 20 Another sono-. 

5 Nimble-tongued. 13 Many others. 21 Fretful. 

6 Lord. 14 Brothers. 22 More. 

7 One. 15 Wager. 23 Good. 

8 Fellow, 16 Plough staff". 24 Trick, 

• Mr. George Demster, ofDunnichen, M. P. ^ 

■j" Sir Adam Ferguson, otKilkei-ran. 

+ The present Duke of Montrose. § Sir Hew Dundas, Edinburg. 

II Lord Fred. Campbell of Argyll, and Sir Hay Campbell of Succoth, Dum- 
bartonshire. 

R 



130 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

An' now she's lilie to rin* red-wud 

About her Whisky. 

17. 

An' L— d, if ance^ they pit^ her till't/ 
Her tartan petticoat she'll kilt/ 
An' durk^ an' pistol at her belt, 

She'll tak the streets, 
An' rin' her whitde to the hilt, 

I' th' first she meets ! 

18. 
For G-d sake, Sirs ! then speak her fair, 
An' straik^ her cannie' wi' the hair. 
An' to the muckle^" house repair, 

Wi' instant speed, 
An' strive wi' a' your wit and lear^^ 
To get remead. 

19. 
Yon ill-tongu'd tinkler^' Charlie Fox, 
May taunt you wi' his jeers an' mocks ! 
But gie" him't het, my hearty cocks ! 

E'en cowe^* the caddie ! 
An' send him to his dicing-box 

An' sportin' lady. 

20. 
Tell yon guid bluid o' auld Boco?inock^s 
I'll be his debt twa" mashlum bannocks, 
An' drink his health in auld Nanse Tinnock^s^ 

Nine times a' week, 
If he some scheme, like tea an' winnocks,^® 
Wad kindly seek. 



1 Run stark mad. 


7 Run. 


13 Give it liino hot. 


2 Onoe. 


8 Stroke. 


14 Humble the fellow. 


3 Put. 


9 Kindly. 


15 Two cakes of mixed 


4 To it. 


to Great. 


meal. 


5 Tuckup. 


11 Learning. 


16 Windows. 


Dagger. 


12 Tinker. 





• A worthj old Hostess of the Authoi'.s in Maiichline, where he sometimps 
studies Politics over a glass of guid auld Scotd^Jirink ■ 



ROBERT BURNS, 131 

21. 
Could he some commutation broach, 
I'll pledge my aith^ in guid braid^ Scotch, 
He need na fear their foul reproach 
Nor erudition, 
Yon mixtie^-maxtie queer hotch-potch,* 
The CoalitioJt, 

22. 
Auld Scotland has a raucle^ tongue ; 
She's just a deevil wi' a rung f 
An' if she promise auld or young 

To tak their part, 
Tho' by the neck she should be strung. 
She'll no desert. 

23. 
An' now ye chosen Five- and- For tj/j"^ 
May still your Mither's heart support ye 
Then, tho' a Minister grow dorty,^ 

An' kick your place, 
Ye'Il snap your fingers, poor and hearty, 
Before his face. 

24. 
G-d bless your Honours a' your days, 
Wi' sowps^ o' kail and brats o' claise, 
In spite o' a' the thievish kaes,^° 

That haunt 6*^. Jamie's ! 
Your humble Poet sinpjs and prays 

While Rab his name is. 



POSTSCRIPT. 

25. 
Let half-starv'd slaves, in warmer skies^ 
See future wines, rich clust'ring, rise ; 

1 Oath. r- Fearless. 8 Saucy, 

2 Broad. G Cudgel. 9 Food and raiment. 

3 Confused, 7 Scotch members in 10 Jackdaw)!. 

4 Mixture. the house of commons. 



132 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

Their lot aiild Scotland ne'er envies ; 

But blithe and frisky, 
She eyes her freeborn, martial boys, 

Tak^ aff their Whisky. 

26. 
What though their Phoebus kinder warms, 
While fragrance blooms and beauty charms I 
When wretches range, in famish'd swarms, 

The scented groves, 
Or hounded forth, dishonour arms 

In hungry droves. 

27. 
Their gun's a burden on their shouther ;^ 
They dovvna' bide the stink o' powther ;* 
Their bauldest* thought's a hank'ring swither® 

To stan'^ or rin,^ 
Till skelp^ — a shot — they're aff, a throwther,^** 
To save their skin. 

28. 
But bring a Scotsmmi frae" his hill, 
Clap in his cheek a Highland gill, 
Say, such is royal George's will, 

An' there's the foe, 
He has nae thought but how to kill, 
Tvva^^ at a blow. 

29. 
Nae" cauld, faint-hearted doubtings tease him ; 
Death comes, wi' fearless eye he sees him ; 
Wi' bluidy" hand a welcome gies^^ him; 

An' when he fa's,'^ 
His latest draught o' breathin' lea'es^^ him 
In faint huzzas. 



1 Take off. 


7 Stand. 


13 No cold. 


a Shoulder. 


8 Run. 


14 Bloody hand 


3 Cannot endure. 


9 Suddenly. 


15 Gives. 


4 Powder. 


10 In confusion. 


IS Palls. 


5 Boldest. 


11 From. 


17 Leaves. 


6 Wavering in choice. 


12 Two. 





ROBERT BURNS. 13? 

30. 
Sages their. solemn een^ may steek,^ 
An' raise a philosophic reek^, 
An' physically causes seek, 

In clime and season 
But tell me Whiskifs name in Greek, 
ni tell the reason. 

sa. 

S.cotland, my auld"* respected Mither!^ 
Tho' whyles^ ye moistify your leather, 
Till whare^ ye sit, on craps' o' heather. 

Ye tine^ your dam ;^'^ 
f Freedom and JFhisky gang^^ thegither !) 

Tak aff your dram ! 



1 Eyes. 


5 Mother. 


9 Lose. 


•■1 Shut. 


C Sometimes. 


10 Urine. 


.^ Smoke. 


7 Whure. 


11 GotogetliC! 


4 Old. 


8 Crops ot'Healti. 





THE BRIGS OF AYR : 

A POEM. 

Inscribed to J. Ballantine, Esq., Ayr. 

This poem is insciibed to John Ballantine, Esq. banker, ii: 
Ayr, one of those gentlemen to whom Burns was intro- 
duced by Mr. Aiken. This gentleman interested himself 
very warmly in the concerns of the poet, and constantly 
showed him the greatest friendship and attachment. 
When the Kilmarnock edition was all sold off, and a con- 
siderable demand pointed out the propriety of publishing 
a second edition of his poems, Burns asked Mr. Wilson, 
who had printed the first edition, if he would print the 
second, and take his chance of being paid out of the pro- 
ceeds of the first sale. This he declined, and when it came 
to Mr. Ballautine's knowledge, he generously offered to 



134 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

accommodate Burns with what money he might need for 
tha! purpose ; but advised him to publish in Edinburgh. 
As Burns, when he went to Edinburgh, published by sub- 
scription, he did not need to accept this oifer. That he 
duly appreciated the kindness of this gentleman is seen, 
not only from the inscription of this poem, but also from 
expressions which occur in a letter to Mr. Aiken, where 
among other things, he says, " 1 would detest myself as a 
" wretch, if I thought I were capable, in a very long life, 
"of forgetting the honest, warm, and tender delicacy with 
•' which he (Mr. Ballantine) enters into my interests." 



THE simple Bard, rough at the rustic plough, 
Learning his tuneful trade from ev'ry bough ; 
The chanting hnnet, or the mellow thrush, 
Hailing the setting sun, sweet, in the green thorn 

bush, 
The soaring lark, the perching red-breast shrill. 
Or deep-ton'd plovers, grey, wild-whislling o'er the 

hill ; 
Shall he, nurst in the Peasant's lovvly shed, 
To hardy Independence bravely bred, 
By early Poverty to hardship steel'd, 
And train'd to arms in stern Misfortune's field, 
Shall he be guilty of their hireling crimes, 
The servile, mercenary Swiss of rhymes ? 
Or labour hard the panegyric close, 
With all the venal soul of dedicating Prose ? 
No ! though liis artless strains he rudely sings. 
And throws his hand uncouthly o'er the strings, 
He glows with all the spirit of the Bard, 
Fame, honest Fame, his great, his dear reward. 
Still, if some Patron's gen'rous care he trace, 
Skiil'd in the secret, to bestow with grace ; 
Wiien Ballantine befriends his humble name, 
And hands the rustic Stranger up to fame. 
With heart-felt throes his grateful bosom swells, 
The godlike bliss, to give, alone excels. 



ROBERT BURNS. 135 

^Twas when the stacks get on their winter hap/ 
And thack^ and rape'' secure the toil-worn crap ;'' 
Potatoe-bings* are snui^ired up frae*^ skaith 
Of coming Winter's biting, frosty breath ; 
The Bees, rejoicing o'er their Summer-toils, ) 

Unnumber'd buds an' flowers' delicious spoils, V 
Seal'd up with frugal care in massive, waxen piles, ) 
Are doom'd by Man, that tyrant o'er the weak, 
The death o' devils, smoor'd^ wi' brimstone reek r"^ 
The thund'ring guns are heard on ev'ry side, 
The wounded coveys, reeling, scatter wide ; 
The feather'd field mates, bound by Nature's tie. 
Sires, mothers, children, in one carnage lie : 
(What warm, poetic heart but inly bleeds, 
And execrates man's savage, ruthless deeds !) 
Nae* mair the flow'r in L^dd or meadow springs : 
Nae mair the gro^e with airy concert rings, 
Except perhaps t.ie Robin's whistling glee, 
r lOUQ o' *bo height of some bit hali-Iang'^ tree : 
ne hoary morns precede the sunny days, "^ 

lid, calm, serene, wide-spreads the noon-tide j 
plaze, y 

■; uiile thick the Gossamour^^ waves wanton in the j 
I'ays. J 

'Tvvas in that season, when a simple Bard, 

Unknown and poor, simplicity's reward, 

Ae^^ night, within the ancient brugh^^ of Ai/r^ 

B} whim inspired, or haply prest wi' care, 

He left his bed, and took his way^vard rout, 

And down by Simpsoji^s* wheei'd the left about : 

(Whether impell'd by all-directing Fate, 

To witness what I after shall narrate ; 

Or whether, rapt in meditation high, 

He wander'd out he knew not where or why.) 

I Covering. G rrorn danger. 10 Halfiong. 

'2 TliHtch. 7 Smotliei-ed. tl Down otphiuts: 

."} Straw rope. S Srmike. lii Out!, 

4 Crop. y No laore. I.J l]jrou-j;i!. 

5 Potatnp-Iie;«i)S. 

' A nctcd tnvc!i. at th^: A'lid B}isc eiui. 



136 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

The Drowsy Dungeon clock* had numbered two, 
And IVallace-Tow^r* had sworn the fact was true : 
The tide-snoln Firth, with sullen sounding roar, 
Through the still night dash'd hoarse along the shore : 
All else was hush'd as Nature's closed e'e !^ 
The silent moon shone high o'er tow'r and tree : 
The chilly Frost, beneath the silver beam, 
Crept, gently-crusting, o'er the glittering stream. 

When, lo ! on either hand the list'ning Bard, 

The clanging sugh- of whistling wing is heard ; 

Two dusky forms dart thro' the midnight air, 

Swift as the Gos\ drives on the wheeling hare ; 

x'\ne on th' Aidd Brig his airy shape uprears. 

The ither^ flutters o'er the nsing piers : 

Our Warlock"* Rhymer instantly decry'd 

The Sprites* that owre*' the Brig^ ^/*^z/r preside. 

(That Bards are second-sighted is nf^e^ joke, 

And ken® the lingo of the sp'ritual foi^ ; 

Fays, Spunkies, Kelpies,^ a', they can explain th-ji. 

An', e'en the vera^° deik the\ 'irawly^i ken thenr vj 

Auld^^ Brig appear'd of ancient Pictish race, " , 

The vera wrinkles Gothic in his face : ly 

He seem'd as he wi' Time had vvarstl'd^' ^^^ng> 

Yet, teughly" doure, he bade^' an unco bang. 

JVexv Brig^^ was buskit" in a braw^^ new coat, 

That he, at Lori^on^^ frae ane Adams, got ; 

In's hand five taper staves as smooth's a bead, 

Wi' virls^° an' whirlvscia-ums^^ at the head. 

The Goth was stalking round with anxious search, 

Spying the time-worn flaws in ev'ry arch ; 

It chanc'd his new-come neebor^^ took his e'e, 

An e'en a vex'd and angry heart had he ! 

! 

1 Eye. 9 Imaginary spirits. conflict. 

2 Rushing sound. (See Glossary.) 16 Bridge. 

3 Other. 10 Very devils. 17 Dressed. 

4 Wizzard. 11 Perfectly. 18 Fine. 

5 Spirits. V2. Old bridge. 19 London. 

6 Over. 13 Wrestled long. 20 Rings. 

7 No. 14 Toughly stern. 21 Useiiss ornaments 

8 Know. 13 Endured a severe 22 Neighbour. 

• The two steeplf s "j" The gos-hawk, or falcon. 



ROBERT BURNS. 137 

Wi' thieveless* sneer to see his modish mien, 
He, down the water, gies^ him this guide'en^ 

AULD BRIG. 

I doubt na', frien', ye'll think ye're nae sheep-shank, 
Ance'* ye were streekit* o'er frae bank to bank ! 
But gin° ye be a brig as aiild as me, 
Tho' faith, that day, I doubt, ye'll never see; 
There'll be, if that day come, I'll wad' a boddle, 
Some fewer whisrmaleeries^ in your noddle. 

NEW BRIG. 

Auld Vandal, ye but show your little mense,^ 
Just much about it v\ i' your scanty sense ; 
Will your poor, narrow foot-path of a street, 
Where twa wheelbarrows tremble when ^hey meet ; 
Your ruin'd formless bulk o' stane^° and lime, 
Compare wi' bonnie" Brigs o' modern time ? 
There's men o' taste wou'd tak the Ducat stream^^ 
Tho' they should cast the vera sark^^ an' s\vim, 
Ere they would grate their feelings wi' the view 
Of sic^* an ugly, Gothic hulk as you. 

AULD BRIG. 

Conceited gowk !" puff'd up wi' windy pride 1 
This mony^* a year I've stood the flood aj' tide ; 
And tho' wi' crazy eihi^® I'm sair" f(nfairn, 
I'll be a Brig when ye're a shapeless caini," 
As yet ye little ken about the matter, 
But twa^^- three winters will inform ye better. 
When heavy, dark, continued, a'- day rains, 
Wi' deepening deluges o'eriiow the plains ; 



1 Sarcastic. 


8 Whims. 


14 Fool. 


2 Givts. 


9 DiNCretion. 


15 Many. 


3 salutation. 


10 Stone 


16 U-<i age. 


4 Once. 


11 ;' tidaome. 


17 Sor*^ »urn out- 


5 Stretched. 


Vi S. ,.-t. 


18 Heap of stones 


6 If. 


13 Such. 


19 Two three. 


7 Lay a bet. 








* A noted ford, just above the Auld Brig. 
S 



138 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

When from the hills where springs the brawling^ 

Coilf 
Or stately Lugar^s mossy fountains boil, 
Or where the Greenock winds his moorland course, 
Or haunted Garpal^ draws his feeble source, 
Arous'd by blust'ring winds an' spotting thowes,^ 
In mony a torrent down the snaw-broo^ rowes ; 
While crashing ice, borne on the roaring speat,'' 
Sweeps dams, an' mills, an' brigs, a' to the gate j* 
And from Glenbuck^\ down to the Ratton-key^X 
Auld Ayr is just one lengthen'd, tumbling sea ; 
Then down ye'U hurl, — deil nor ye never rise ! 
And dash the gumlie*^ j^^ps up to the pouring skies, 
A lesson sadly teaching, to your cost. 
That Architecture's noble art is lost ! 

NEW BRIG 

Fine Architecture trowth, I needs must say't o't ! 
The L — d be thankit' that we've tint^ the gate o't \ 
Gaunt, ghastly, ghaist^-alluring edifices. 
Hanging with threat'ning jut, like precipices ; 
O'er-arching, mouldy, gloom-inspiring coves : 
Supporting roofs fantastic, stony groves ; 
Windows and doors in nameless sculpture drest, 
With order, symmetry, or taste unblest; 
Forms like some bedlam Statuary's dream, 
The craz'd creations of misguided whim ; 
Forms might be worshipp'd on the bended knee, 1 
And still the second dread command be free, C 

Their likeness is not found on earth, in air, or sea. ) 
Mansions that would disgrace the building-taste 
Of any mason, reptile, bird, or beast ; 
Fit only for a doited Monkish race, 
Or frosty maids forsworn the dear embrace, 



1 Jumbling. 


4 Sweeping torrent. 


7 Thanked. 


2 Thaws. 


5 Ruin. 


8 Lost the art. 


3 Snow-water rciis. 


6 Muddy spray. 


9 Ghost. 



• The Banks of Garpal-Wnter is one of the few places in the West of Scot ■ 
land, where those fancy-scaring beings, known by the name of Ghaists, still 
continnf; Dertinaciously to inhabit. 

+ The source of the river A) r. 

t A small landing-place above the large key, 



ROBERT BURNS. 13J& 

Or Cuifs^ of latter times, wha held the notion, 
That sullen gloom was sterling true devotion ; 
Fancies that our guid* Brugh denies protection, 
And soon may they expire, unblest with resurrection! 

AULD BRIG. 

O ye, my dear-remember'd, ancient yealings,^ 
Were ye but here to share my wounded feelings 1 
Ye worthy Proveses,* and mony a Bailie^^ 
Wha^ in the paths o' righteousness did toil ay ;' 
Ye dainty Deacons,^ an' ye douce^ Conveeners,^" 
To whom our moderns are but causey'^-cleaners ; 
Ye godly Councils, wha hae blest this town ; 
Ye godly Brethren o' the sacred gown, 
Wha meekly gie^^ your hurdies^^ to the smiters ; 
And (what would now be strange) ye godli/ ffriters:^^ 
A' ye douce folk Pve borne aboon** the broo. 
Were ye but here, what would ye say or do 1 
How would your spirits groan in deep vexation. 
To see each melancholy alteration ; 
And, agonizing, curse the time and place 
When ye begat the base, degenerate race ! 
Nae^® langer'Rev'rend Men, their country's glory, 
In plain braid'^ Scots, hold forth a plain, braid story : 
Nae langer thrifty citizens, an' douce, 
Meet owre a pint, or in the Council-house ; 
But staumrel,^^ corky-headed, graceless Gentry, 
The herryment^^ and ruin of the country ; 
Men, three parts made by Taylors and by Barbers, 
Wha waste your vveel-hain'd^" gear on d — d new Brigs 
and Harbours ! 

NEiW BRIG. 

Now haud^* you there ! for faith ye've said enough, 
And muckle^^ mair than ye can mak^^ to through. 

1 Blockheads. 9 Pradent. 15 Above the water. 

2 Good. 10 An officer that con- 16 No longer. 

3 Coevals. venes the trades to- 17 Broad. 

4 Mayors'. gether on matters of 18 Halfwitted. 

5 Alderman. general concern. 19 Plunder. 

6 Who. 11 Scavengers. 20 Saved wealth 

7 Always. 12 Give. 21 Stop. 

8 Presidents of incor- 13 Buttocks. 22 Much more, 
porate trades. 14 Lawyers. 23 Make good. 



140 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

As for your Priesthood, 1 shall say but little, 

Corbies^ and Clergy are a shot right kittle :^ 

But, under favour o' your langer' beard, 

Abuse o' Magistrates might weel"* be spar'd ; 

To liken them to your auld-warld' squad, 

I must needs say, comparisons are odd. 

In Aip'y Wag-wi*s nae mair can hae a handle 

To mouth ' A Citizen,' a term o' scandal : 

Nae mair the Council waddles down the street, 

In all the pomp of ignorant conceit ; 

Men wha grew wise priggin,*' owre hops an' raisins. 

Or ixather'd lib'ral views in Bonds and Seisins. 

If haply Knowledge, on a random tramp, 

Had shor'd'' them with a glimmer of his lamp, 

And would to Common- sense for once betray 'd them. 

Plain, dull Stupidity stept kindly in to aid them. 



What farther clishmaclaver* might been said, 
What bloody wars, if Sprites had blood to shed, 
No man can tell ; but, all before their sight, 
A fairy train appeared in order bright : 
Adown the glittering stream they featly danc'd ; 
Bright to the moon their various dresses glanc'd : 
They footed o'er the vvat'ry glass so neat, 
The infant ice scarce bent beneath their feet : 
While arts of Minstrelsy among them rung, 
And soul ennobling Bards heroic ditties sung. 

O had M'Lauchlan,^ thairm^-inspiring sage, "] 

Been there to hear this heavenly band engage, 1 

When thro' his dear Strathspeijs they bore with [ 

Highland rage ; J 

1 Ravens. 4 Well. 7 ThreatenM. 

2 Difficult. 5 Old World. 8 Silly talk. 

3 Longer. 6 Cheapening. 9 Violin strings, 

* A well known performer of Scottish music on the viollo. 



ROBERT BURNS. 141 

Or when they struck old Scotia's melting airs, 
The lover's raptur'd joys or bleeding cares ; 
How would his Hisjhland lug' been nobler fir'd, 
And ev'n his matchless hand with finer touch inspired ! 
No guess could tell what instrument appeared, 
But all the soul of Music's self was heard ; 
Harmonious concert rung in ev'ry part, 
While simple melody pour'd moving on the heart 

The Genius of the Stream in front appears, 
A venerable Chief advanc'd in years ; 
His hoary head with water-lilies crown'd, 
His manly leg with garter tangle bound. 
Next came the loveliest pair in all the ring, 
Su eet Female Beauty, hand in hand with Spring ; 
Then crown'd with flow*ry hay, came Rural Joy, 
And Summer, with his fervid-beaming eye : 
All-cheering Plenty, with her flowing horn, 
Led yellow Autumn, wreath'd with nodding corn ; 
Then Winter's time-bleach'd locks did hoary show, 
By Hospitality with cloudless brow. 
Next follow'd Courage with his martial stride, 
From where \hQ Feal wild-woody coverts hide : 
Benevolence, with mild, benignant air, 
A female form, came from the tow'rs of Stair : 
Learning and Worth in equal measures trode, 
From simple Catrme, their long-lov'd abode : 
Last, white-rob'd Peace, crown'd with a hazle wreath, 
To rustic Agriculture did bequeath 
The broken, iron instruments of death, 
At sight of whom our Sprites forgat their kindling 
wrath. 

X Ear 



Ua THE POETICAL WORKS OF 



A DREAM. 



The Poet's steady friend, Mrs. Dunlop, of Dunlop, thought 
that he had treated royalty in this poem, with too little 
reverence, which drew from him the following reply. 
" Your criticisms, Madam, I understand very well, and 
could have wished to please you better. You are right in 
your guess, that I am not very amenable to counsel. Poets 
much my superiors, have so flattered those who possessed 
the adventitious qualities of wealth and power, that I am 
determined to flatter no created being either in prose or 
verse. I set as little by princes, lords, clergy, critics. &c. 
as all these respective gentry do by my hardship. As to 
my Dream, which has unfortunately incurred your loyal 
displeasure, 1 hope in four weeks or less, to have the ho- 
nour of appearing at Dunlop, in person, in its defence. 



[^On reading, in the public papers, the Laureat's Ode, with 

the other parade of June 4, 1786, the author was no sooner 

dropt asleep, than he imagined himself transported to the 

Birth-day Levee ; and, in his dreaming fancy, made the 

folloiving Jlddress.~\ 

Thoughts, words, and deeds, the Statute blames with reason ; 
But surely Dreams were ne'er indicted Treason. 

1. 

GUID^-MORNIN' to your Majesty ! 

May Heaven augment your blisses, 
On ev'ry new birth-day ye see, 

A humble poet wishes ! 
My bardship here, at your levee, 

On sic a day as this is. 
Is sure an uncouth sight to see, 

Amang'^ thae birth-day dresses 

Sae^ fine this dav. 

\ Good-morning, 2 Among. 3 Sc* 



ROBERT BURNS* US 

2. 

I see ye're complimented thrang,^ 

By monie a lord an' lady ; 
' God save the King V 's a cuckoo sang^ 

That's unco^ easy said ay : 
'Vhe FoefSy too, a venal gang, 

Wi' rhymes vv^eel'*-turnM an' ready, 
Wad gar' you trow^ ye ne'er do wrang,' 

But ay unerring steady, 

On sic^ a day. 

3. 
For me ! before a Monarch's face, 

Ev'n there I winna^ flatter ; 
For neither pension, post, nor place, 

Am I your humble debtor : 
So nae^° reflection on Your Gracef 

Your Kingship to bespatter ; 
There's monie waur" been o' the race, 

And aiblins^^ ane'^ been better 

Than you this day. 

4. 
'Tis very true, my sov'reign King, 

My skill may well be doubted : 
But facts are chiels^'' that winna ding," 

An' downa^^ be disputed : 
Your royal nest, beneath your wing, 

Is e'en right reft^'' an' clouted,^' 
And now the third part of the string, 

An' less, will gang^^ about it. 

Than did ae^° day. 



Far be't frae^* me that I aspire 




To blame 


your legislation, 




I Throng. 


8 Such. 


15 Will not be worsted, 


2 S'lug. 


9 Will not. 


16 Cannot. 


3 Vtiy. 


10 No. 


17 Bereft. 


4 W.^ll. 


11 Worse. 


18 Patched. 


5 Would make. 


12 Perhaps. 


19 Go. 


6 RLlieve. 


13 One. 


20 One. 


7 Wrong. 


14 Things. 


21 t'rom. 



144 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

Or say, ye wisdom want, or fire, 

To rule this mighty nation ; 
But, faith ! I muckle* doubt, my Sire^ 

Ye've trusted Ministration 
To chaps,^ wha,^ in a barn or byre,'* 

Wad better fill'd their station 

Than courts yon day. 

6. 
And now ye've sji'en* auld® Britain peace, 

Her broken shins to plaister ; 
Your sair' taxation does her fleece, 

Till she has scarce a tester : 
For me, thank God, my life's a lease, 

Nae bargain wearing faster, 
Or, faith ! 1 fear, that wi' the geese, 

I shortly boost^ to pasture 

1' the craft^ some day. 

7. 
I'm no mistrusting JFillie Pitty 

When taxes he enlarges, 
(An' PFilfs a true guid fallow's^" Get, 

A name not Envy spairges,") 
That he intends to pa) your debt, 

An' lessen a' your charges, 
B^it, G — d sake ! let nae saving Jit 

Abridge your bonnie^^ Barges 

An' Boats this day. 

8. 

Adieu, my Liege ! may Freedom geck^^ 
Beneath your high protection ; 

An' may ye rax" Corruption's neck, 
And gie her for dissection ! 

But since I'm here, I'll no neglect, 
In loyal, true affection. 



1 Much. 


6 Old. 


11 SiiUy. 


2 Fellows. 


7 Sore. 


12 Handsome. 


3 Who. 


8 Must needs. 


13 Sport. 


4 C»w-stable, 


9 Ciolt. 


14 Stretch. 


5 Given, 


10 Goodman's chijd. 





ROBERT BURNS. 145 

To pay your Queen, with due respect, 
My fealty an' subjection 

This great Birth-day. 

9. 
Hail, Majesty most Excellent ! 

While Nobles strive to please Ye, 
Will ye accept a Compliment 

A simple Bardie gi'es Ye ? 
Thae bonnie' Bairntime, Heav'n has lent. 

Still higher may they heeze^ Ye 
In bliss, till Fate some day is sent, 

For ever to release Ye 

Frae care that day. 

10. 
For you, youns: Potentate o' Wales, 

I tell your Highness fairly, 
Down Pleasure's stream, vvi' swelling sails, 

I'm tauld' ye're drivin.^ rarely ; 
But some day ye may gnaw your nails, 

An' curse your folly sairly,"* 
That e'er ye brak* Diana's pales. 

Or rattl'd dice wi' Charlie 

By night or day. 

11. 

Yet aft a ragged cowte's^ been known 

To mak a noble aiver ;'' 
So, ye may doucely fill a Throne, 

For a' their clish-ma-claver ;* 
There, him^ at Agincourt wha shone, 

Few better w ere or braver ; 
And yet, wi' funny, queer Sir John^\ 

He was an unco® shaver. 

For monie a day. 

1 These pretty chiU 4 Sorely, 7 Horse. 

dren. 5 Broke. 8 I(l!e .liscourse, 

2 Raise. 6 Colt. 9 Surprising. 

3 Told. / i- s 

• King Henry V. f Sir John FalstafF. Vide Shakespeare. 

T 



146 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

12. 

For you, right rev'rend Osnaburg,^ 

Nane^ sets the lawn sleeve sweeter, 
Altho' a ribbon at your lug^ 

Wad^ been a dress completer: 
As ye disown yon paughty^ dog 

That bears the keys o' Peter, 
Then, swith !* an' get a wife to hug, 

Or, trowth ! ye'll stain the Mitre 

Some luckless day. 

13. 

Young, royal Tarry^-Breeks^^ I learn, 

YeVe lately come athwart her ; 
A glorious galley ^X stem and stern, 

Weel rigg'd for Venus' barter ; 
But first hang out, that she'll discern, 

Your hymeneal charter, 
Then heave aboard your grapple aim,' 

An', large upon her quarter 

Come full that day. 

14. 
Ye, lastly, bonnie blossoms a', 

Ye royal Lasses dainty, 
Heav'n mak you guid as weel as braw, 

An' gie you lads* a plenty : 
But sneer na British boys awa',^ 

For Kings are unco scant ay j^" 
An' German Gentles are but smc?^'^ 

They're better just than want ay 
On onie*^ day. 

9 Away. 

10 Always. 

11 Small. 

12 Any. 

» Frederick, Duke of York and Bishop of Osnaburg, second son of 
Georgt- III. 

t William Henry, Duke of Clarence, Admiral of the Fleet, third son ol 
George III. 

+ Alluding to the News-paper account of a certain Royal Sailor's amour. 



1 Tfone. 


5 Away. 


2 Ear. 


6 Sailor, 


.3 Would. 


7 Iron. 


4 Haughty. 


8 Lovers, 



ROBERT BURNS. 147 

15. 
God bless you a' ! consider now, 

Ye're unco muckle dautet ;^ 
But ere the course o' life be through, 

T O ' 

It may be bitter sautet :^ 
An' I hae' seen their coggie fou/ 

That yet hae tarrow'i* at it ; 
But or the day was done, I trow, 

The laggen^ they hae clautet^ 

Fu' clean that day. 

1 Very much caressed. 4 Cup full. the bottom and sides 

2 Salted. 5 Complained. of a wooden disli. 

3 Have. 6 The angle between 7 Scraped. 



THE ORDINATION. 



This poem was composed on the Rev. Mr. (now Dr.) James 
M'Kinlay's being called to the pastoral charge in the 
Laigh-Kirk, Kilmarnock. 



For sense they little owe to Frugal Heav'n. — 
To please the mob they hide the little giv'n. 

1. 

KILMARNOCK Wabsters\ fidge^ an' claw, 
An' pour your creeshie^ nations ; 

An' ye wha" leather rax' an' draw. 
Of a'® denominations ; 

Swith' to the Laigh^ Kirk^ ane^ an' a', 
An' there tak^° up your stations ; 

1 Weavers. 5 Stretch. 8 Low-church, 

2 Fidget and scratch. 6 All. 9 One and all. 

3 Greasy. 7 Swift. 10 Take. 

4 Who. 



4r 



i48 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

Then aff * to Begbie's^ in a raw,^ 
An' pour divine libations 

For joy this day, 

2. 

Curst Common-sense, that imp o' h-ll, 

Cam' in vvi' Maggie Lauder ; 
Bui Oliphant aft^ made her yell, 

An' Russell sair^ misca'd her; 
This day MKinlay takes the flail, 

An' he's the boy will blaud* her * 
He'll clap a shangan' on her tail, 

An' set the bairns^ to dand' her 

Wi' dirt this day. 

3. 

Mak^° haste an' turn king" David owre,*^ 

An' lilt" wi' holy clangor; 
O' double verse come gie" us four, 

An' skirl** up the Bangor: 
This day the Kirk kicks up a stoure,*^ 

Nae" irjair the knaves shall wrang*^ her, 
For Heresy is in her pow'r, 

And gloriously she'll whang*^ her 
Wi' pith this day. 

4. 
Come, let a proper text be read. 

An' touch it aff wi' vigour, 
How graceless Ham leugh^° at his Dad, 

Which made Canaan a niger ;^* 
Or Phineas drove the n)urdering blade, 

Wi' wh — re-abhorring rigour ; 

1 Off, on the tail of a (log. 15 Sing shrilly. 

2 Row. 8 Children. 16 Dust. 

3 Came. ^ Abuse. 17 No more. 

4 Oft. 10 Muke. 18 Wrong. 

5 Severely abused. 11 Psalms of David. 19 Flog. 

6 Slap. 12 Over. 20 Laughed. 

7 A slick cleft at onp 13 Sing cheerfully. 21 Negro. 
end, cruelly fastened 14 Give. 

• One of the most respectable Inns in Kilmarnock. 



ROBERT BURNS. 149 

Or Zipporah^ the scauldin'* jade, 
Was like a bluidy^ ii^jer 

V th' inn that day^ 

5. 
There, try his mettle on the creed, 
And bind him down wi' caution, 
That Stipend is a carnal weed 
* He laks^ but for the fashion ; 
And gie him o'er the flock, to feed, 

And punish each transgression ; 
Especial, rams that cross the breed, 
Gie them sufficient threshin',"* 

Spare them nae* day. 

6. 
Now auld^ Kilmarnock cock thy tail, 

And toss thy horns fu' canty ;^ 
Nae mair thou'lt rowte* out-owre the dale. 

Because thy pasture's scanty ; 
For lapfu's large o' gospel-kail^ 

Shall fill thy crib in plenty, 
An' rimts^° d' grace the pick and wale,^^ 

No^^ gi'en by way o' dainty. 

But ilka" day. 

• ^- 

Nae mair by BabePs streams we'll weep, 

To think upon our Zion; 
And hing our fiddles up to sleep, 

Like baby-clouts a dryin' : 
Come, screw the pegs wi' tunefu' cheep,** 

And o'er the thairms'* be try in' ; 
Oh, rare ! to see our elbucks wheep," 

And a' like lamb-tails flyin' 

Fu' fast this day ! 



1 Scolding jade. 


7 Right cheerful. 


12 Not given. 


2 Bloody. 


8 Bellow over. 


13 Everyday. 


3 Takes. 


9 Gi-ecns. 


14 Chi.p. 


4 Tlirashing, 


10 Cabbage stem. 


15 Violin Strings. 


5 N<. day. 


11 Choice. 


16 Elbows move. 


6 Old. 







150 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

8. 
Lang^ Patronage, wi' rod o' aim. 

Has shor'd^ che Kirk's undoin', 
As lately Fenwick, sair^ forfairn, 

Has proven to his ruin : 
Our Patron, honest man ! Glencairn, 

He saw mischief was brevvin' ;'* 
And like a godly elect bairn/ ; 

He's wal'd^ us out a true ane/ <. 

And sound this day. '^ • 

9. 

Now Robertson harangue nae mair, 

But steek^ your gab for ever : 
Or try the wicked town of Ayr, 

For there they'll think you clever : 
Or, nae reflection on your lear,^ 

Ye may commence a shaver ; 
Or to the Netherton repair, 

And turn a Carpet- weaver 

AfF-hand this day. ". , 

10. 
Muttry and you were just a match, 

We never had sic^° tvva drones : 
Auld Hornie^^ did the Laigh Kirk watch, 

Just hke a winkin'*^ baudrons : 4, 

And ay^' he catch'd the tither^^ wretch, 

To fry them in his caudrons :^* 
But now his honour maun^'^ detach, 

Wi' a' his brimstone squadrons. 

Fast, fast this day. jj, 

11. 

See, see auld Orthodoxy's faes" 
She's swingin'" thro' the city ; 

1 Long. 7 One. 13 Always. 

2 Threatened. 8 Shut your mouth. 14 One after another. 

3 Sorely distressed. 9 Leamirsg. 15 Caldrons. 

4 Brewing, 10 Such two. 16 Must. 

5 Child. 11 Satan. 17 Foes. 

6 Chosen. 12 Wiuking cat. 18 Swinging. 



ROBERT BURNS. 151 

Hark, how the nine-tail'd cat she plays ! 

I vow its unco* pretty : 
There, learning, wV his Greekish face, 

Grunts out some Latin ditty ; 
And Common sense is gaun% she says, 

To mak to Jamie Beattie^ 

Her plaint this day. 

12. 

But there's Morality himsel',^ 

Embracing all opinions ; 
Hear, how he gies the tither yell, 

Between his Iwa companions ; 
See, how she peels the skin an' felf. 

As ane were peelin''* onions ! ■ 

Now there — they're packed aff* to hell, 

And banish'd our dominions. 

Henceforth this day. 

13. 

O happy day ! rejoice^ rejoice I 

Come bouse about the porter ! 
Morality's demure decoys 

Shall here nae mair find quarter : 
M'Kinlay, Russel, are the boys. 

That Heresy can torture ; 
They'll gie her on a rape® a hoyse,'' 

And cowe* her measure shorter 

By th' head some day, 

14. 

Come, bring; the tither mutchkin^ in, 

And here's, for a conclusion, 
To every New Light mother's son. 

From this time forth, Confusion : 

1 Very. 4 Peeling. 7 Hoist. 

2 Going. 5 Off. 8 Crop. 

3 Himself. 6 Rope. 9 Other pint. 

• Dr. Jame3 BeatUe, the author of the Essay on Truth, eminent as a Poet 
dnd Philosopher. 



152 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

If mair they deave us wi' their din, 

Or patronage intrusion, 
We'll light a spunk'", and ev'ry skin, 

We'll rin" them aff in fusion 

Like oil, some day. 

10 Match. n Run. 



TAM SAMSON'S* ELEGY. 

An honest man's the noblest work of God — Pope. 

1. 

HAS auld* Kilmarnock seen the Deil ?^ 
Or great M'Kinlayf thrawn' his heel ! 
Or Robertson,^ again grown weel,"* 

To preach an' read ? 
* Na/ waur^ than a' !' cries ilka' chiel, 

* Tarn SamsorHs dead !' 

2. 
Kilmarnock lang^ may grunt an' grane,' 
An' sigh an' sob, an' greet" her lane," 
An' cleed^^ her bairns," man, wife, an' wean," 

In mourning weed ; 
To Death she's dearly paid the kane,^' 

Tam Samson's dead ! 



1 Old. 


6 Worse than all. 


11 Alone. 


2 Satan. 


7 Every fellow. 


12 Clothe. 


3 Sprained. 


8 Long. 


13 Children. 


4 Well. 


9 Groan. 


14 Child. 


5 No. 


10 Weep. 


15 Tax. 



* Thonaas Samson, merchant, Kilmarnock. When this woithv old Sports- 
man went out last muir-towl season, he siippposed it was to b". ii' O'siim's 
phrase, ' the last of his fields ;' and expressed an ardent wish to <li. and be bu- 
ried in the muirs. On this hint the Author composed his Elegy and Epi- 
taph. 

t A certain preacher, a great favourite with the million. Vide the ORDI- 
NATION. 

% Another preacher, an equal favourite with the fev/, who was at that time 
ailing. For him, see also the ORDINATION, stanza IX. 



ROBERT BURNS. I5f 

3. 

The Brethren o' the mystic level 
May hing their head in woefu' bevel, 
While by their nose the tears will revel, 

Like ony^ bead ; 
Death's gien the lodge an unco^ devel, 

Tarn Samson's dead. 

4. 
When Winter muffles up his cloak, 
And binds the mire like a rock ; 
When to the loughs^ the curlers* flock, 

Wi' gleesome speed, 
Wha« will they station at the cock^ 

Tarn Samson's dead ! 

5. 

He was the king of a' the core,' 
To guard, or draw, or wick^ a bore,^ 
Or up the rink" like Jehu roar, 

In time o' need ; 
But now he lags on death's hog score ^"^ 

Tam Samson's dead ! 

6. 
Now safe the stately sawmont^* sail. 
And trouts bedropp'd wi'^' crimson hail, 
And eels weeP^ ken'd for souple tail, 

And geds^* for greed, 
Since dark in death's fish-creel^^ we u ail 
Tam Samson's dead 1 

7. 
Rejoice, ye birring" paitricks a' ; 
Ye cootie^^ moorcocks, crousely" craw; 

1 Any the curlers aim the 12 Salmon. 

2 Great stunning blow. stones used in curling. 13 With. 

3 Lakes. 7 Company. 14 Well known. 

4 Players at a game on 8 Strike a stone in an 15 Pikes. 

the ice, practised in oblique direction. IG Fish-basket. 

Scotland, called curl- 9 An opening, 17 Whizzing; partridges, 

ing. 10 Course. 18 Feathery legged. 

5 Who. 11 A distance, line in 19 Courageously crow. 

6 The mark at wiiich curling. 

U 



154 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

Ye maukins/ cock your fud^ fu' braw,' 
Withouten" dread ; 

Your mortal fae^ is now awa',** 

Tam Samson's dead I 

8. 
That woefu' morn be ever mourn'd 
Saw him in shootin'^ graith adorn'd, 
While pointers round impatient burn'd, 
Frae^ couples freed ; 
But, Och !^ he gaed" and ne'er return'd ! 
Tam Samson's dead I 

9. 
In vain auld age his body batters ; 
In vain the gout his ancles fetters ; 
In vain the burns" cam down like waters, 

An acre-braid !*^ 
Now ev'ry auld wife, greetin'^^ clatters, 

* Tam Samson's dead !' 

10. 
Owre'^ mony a weary hag" he limpit," 
An' ay the tither" shot he thumpit/^ 
Till coward death behint^' him jumpit,^" 
Wi' deadly feide ;*' 
Now he proclaims, wi' tout^^ o' Trumpet, 
Tam Samson's dead ! 

11. 
When at his heart he felt the dagger, 
He reel'd his wonted bottle-swagger, 
But yet he drew the mortal trigger 

Wi' weel-aim'd heed ! 
' L — d, five !' he cry'd, and owre did stagger; 
Tam Samson's dead ! 



1 Hares. 


8 From. 


16 Limped. 


2 Tail. 


9 Oh! 


17 Other. 


3 Fine. 


10 Went. 


18 Thumped, 


i W'tliout. 


11 lllvulets come. 


19 Behind. 


5 Foe. 


12 Acre-brodd. 


20 Jumped. 


6 Gone. 


13 Weeping. 


21 Enniitv. 


7 Shooting accoutre- 


14 Over many. 


22 Sound. 


.ments. 


15 Ditch. 





ROBERT BURNS. 155 

12. 
There low he lies in lasting rest, 
Perhaps upon his mould'ring- breast, 
Some spitefu'^ muirfovvF bigs^ her nest ; 
To hatch and breed ; 
Alas, nae mair^ he'll them molest. 

Tarn Samson's dead ! 

13. 
lik^ hoary hunter mournM a brither ;° 
Ilk sports man-youth bemoan'd a father ; 
Yon auld gray stane,^ amang^ the heather,^ 

Marks out his head, 
Whare'° Burns has vvrate^^ in rhyming blether,^^ 
Tarn Samson^ s dead I 

14. 
When August winds the heather wave, 
And sportsmen wander by you grave, 
Three volleys let his mem'ry crave 

O' pouther'^ an' lead, 
Till Echo answer frae her cave, 

'..^J^- Tarn Samson's dead ! 

15. 

Heav'n rest his saul", whare'er he be ! 
Is th' wish of mony raae,^.^ than me : 
He had twa^^ fauts, or maybe three. 

Yet what remead ?^^ 
Ae^^ social, honest man want we : 

Tarn Samson's dead. 

THE EPITAPH. 

Tarn Samson^ s weel worn clay here lies, 
Ye canting zealots, spare him ! 

1 Spiteful. 

2 Moorfowl. 

3 Builds.- 

4 No more. 

5 Each. 

6 Brother. 



7 Stone. 


13 Powder and shot. 


8 Among. 


U Soul. 


9 H. alh. 


15 More. 


10 Where. 


16 Two faults. 


11 Wrote. 


17 Kerned V. 


Vi Nonsense. 


18 One. 



ioQ THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

If honest worth in Heaven rise, 
Ye'U nnend or ye win^ near him. 

PER CONTRA. 

Go, Fame, an' canter like a filly 
Thro' a' the streets an' neuks^ o' KilliCy* 
Tell ev'ry social, honest billie^ 

To cease his grievin', 
For yet, unskaith'd" by death's gle,^ guUie/ 

Tarn Samson^ s livm^ I^ 

1 Get or come. 3 Comrade. 5 Sharp weapon. 

2 Nooks. 4 Unhurt. 6 Living. 

* Killie is a phrase the country-folks sometimes use for Kilmarnock. 



THE AULD FARMER'S 

NEW YEAR MORNING SALUTATION 

TO HIS 

AULD MARE, MAGGIE. 

On giving her the accustomed Ripp of Corn to Hansel in the New Year. 

1. 

A GUID"^ New Year I wish thee, Maggie! 
Hae,^ there's a ripp^ to thy auld* baggie: 
Tho' thou's howe*-backit, now, an' knaggie,*^ 

I've seen the day 
Thou could hae' gaen like onie* staggie 
Out-owre' the lay, 

1 Good. 4 Old belly. 7 Have gone 

2 Here. 5 Hollf w-backed. 8 Any stag. 

3 Handful of untbresh- Having proturbe- 9 Over, 
ed oats. rsuce. 

.1% 



ROBERT BURNS. 



15/ 



2. 
Tho' now thou's dowie,* stiff, an' crazy, 
An' thy auld hide as white's a daisy, 
I've seen thee dappl't, sleek an' glaizie, 

A bonnie^ gray : 
He should been tight that daur't^ to raize* thee, 
Ance^ in a day. 

3. 

Thou ance^ was i' the foremost rank, 
K filly buirdly,' steeve,' an' swank,^ 
An' set weel" down a shapely shank, 

As e'er tread yird," 
An' could hae flown out-owre^^ a stank,^^ 

Like onie bird. 

4. 
It's now some nine-an'-twenty year, 
Sin"* thou was my guid-father's" meere ; 
He gied^^ me thee, o' tocher^' clear. 

An' fifty mark ;^' 
Tho', it was sma',^^ 'twas weel-won^" gear, 
An* thou was stark. ^^ 



5. 
When first I gaed^^ to woo my Jenny, 
Ye then was trottin'" wi' your minnie :^* 
Tho' ye was trickie, slee,^^ an' funnie. 

Ye ne'er was donsie ;' 
But hamely^', tawie,'^ quiet, an cannie' 
An' unco sonsie.*° 



^y29 



1 Dull. 

2 Handsome. 

3 Dared. 

4 Rouse. 

5 In your younger 
days. 

6 Onee. 

7 Broad built. 

8 Firm. 

9 Jolly. 

10 Well. 

11 Earth. 



12 Over. 


21 Stout. 


13 Pool or pond. 


22 Went. 


14 Since, 


23 Trotting 


15 Father-in-law's 


24 Dam. 


mare. 


25 Sly. 


16 Gave. 


26 Restive. 


17 Besides marriage 


27 Homely. 


portion. 


28 Tame. 


18 Marks. 


29 Gentle. 


19 Small. 


30 Very plump 


20 Honestly earned 




monev. 





158 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF 



6. 
That day, ye pranc'd wi' muckle^ pride, 
When ye bure^ hame my bonnie^ bride ; 
An' sweet an' gracefu' she did ride, 
Wi^ maiden air ! 
Kyle- Stewart^ I could bragged wide, 
For sic^ a pair. 

7. 
Tho' now ye dow^ but hoyte" and hobble, 
An' wintle^ like a saumont-coble,^° 
That day ye was a jinker" noble, 

For heels an' win' !^^ 
'An' ran them till thev a' did vvauble,'' 
Far, far behin' !'^ 

8. 

When thou an' I were young and skeigh,^'^ 
An' stable- meals at fail's were dreigh,^^ 
How thou wad^^ prance, an' snore an' skreigh,' 

An' tak^^ the road ! 
Town's-bodies ran, an' stood abiegh,^'' 

An' ca't^^ thee mad. 



9. 
When thou was corn't^^ an' I was mellow. 
We took the road ay^' like a swallow : 
At Brooses^* thou had ne'er a fellow, 

For pith an' speed ; 
But ev'ry tail thou pay't^^ them hollow, 

Whare'er^'^ thou gaed.^' 



1 Much. 

2 Carried home. 

3 Beautiful. 

4 With. 

5 A district in Ayr- 
shire. 

C Such. 
,7 Can. 

8 To move stiffly. 

9 Stagger, 



10 Salmon fishing-boat. 

11 Quick in motion. 

12 Wind. 

13 Reel. 

14 Behind. 

15 Skittish. 
IG Tedious. 

17 Would. 

18 Neigh. 

19 Take. 



20 Aloof. 

21 Called. 

22 F-d with oats. 

23 Always. 

24 Races at country 
weddings. (See Glos- 
sary.) 

25 Beat. 

2G Where'er. 
27 Went. 



ROBERT BURNS. 159 

10. 
The sma', droop-rumpPt/ hunter cattle, 
Might aiblins^ waur't^ thee for a brattle :" 
But sax* Scotch miles thou try't^ their mettle, 
An' gar't'' them whaizle r 
Nae whip nor spur, but just a wattle^ 

O' saugh^" or hazel. 

11. 

Thou was a noble Jittie-lan\^^ 
As e'er in tug or tow was drawn ! 
Aft^^ thee an' I, in aught" hours gaun,^* 

On guid" March- weather, 
Hae turn'd sax rood beside our han',^^ 

For days thegither.^^ 

12. 
Thou never braindg't^^ an' fech't^^ an' fliskit,^", 
But thy auld tail thou wad hae whiskit,^^ 
An' spread abreed^^ thy weel-fill'd brisket, 

Wi' pith an' pow'r, 
Till spritty^^ knowes wad rair't^'* an' riskit,* 

An' slypet^* owre. 

13. 
When frosts lay lang,^^ an' snaws" were deep, 
An' threaten'd labour back to keep, 
I gied thy cog^^ a wee^^-bit heap 

Aboon^° the tiramer ; 

I ken'd^^ my Maggie wad na^^ sleep 

For that or^^ simmer. 

1 Di-oop-rumped. 12 Oft. 24 The noise made when 

2 Perhaps. 13 Eight. tearing the roots with 

3 Worsted. 14 Going. the plongii. 

4 Short race, 15 Good. 25 Turn 'd it over. 

5 Six. IG Hand. 26 Long. 

6 Tryed. 17 Together. 27 Snows. 

7 Forced to. 18 Reeled forward. 28 Feed measure. 

8 Wlieese. ^ 19 PuU'd intermenently. 29 Little. 

9 Wand. 20 Fi-etted. 30 Above the edge. 
10 Willow. 21 Lashed. 31 Knew. 

II Tile nearer horse of 22 Abroad. 32 Would not. 
the hindmost pair in 23 Rtedy hillocks. 33 Ere. 

a plough. 

• Whoever has bad an opportunity of hearing the noise made liy the plough, 
when forcing its way through " spritly knows," will pei-ceive how beautifully 
the sound, in this line eciioes to the sense. 



160 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

14. 
In cart or car thou never reestit ;^ 
The steyest^ brae thou wad hae fac't it ; 
Thou never lap,^ an' sten't/ an' breastit/ 
Then stood to blaw ;* 
But just they step a wee thing hastit,' 
Thou snoov't^ awa. 

15. 

My pleugh^ is now thy bairn"-time a' ; 
Four gallant brutes as e'er did draw ; 
Forbye" sax mae,*^ I've sel't^^ awa, 

That thou hast nurst : 
They drew me thretteen" pund an' twa, 

The vera" warst. 

16. 
Monie^^ a sair" daurk we twa hae wrought, 
An' wi'^^ the weary warl" fought ! 
An' monie an anxious day, I thought 
We wad be beat ! 
Yet here to crazy age we're brought, 
Wi' something yet. 

17. 
An' think na, my auld trusty servan', 
That now perhaps thou's less deservin'. 
An thy auld days may end in starvin', 
For my lastyot^/" 
A heapit stimparf^ I'll reserve ane^^ 
Laid by for you. 

18. 
We've w^orn to crazy years thegither j 
We'll toyte^^ about wi' ane** anither ; 

1 Stood restive. 9 Plough horses. 17 Sore day's labour- 

2 Steepest hill. 10 Offspring. 18 With. 

3 Leaped. 11 Besides. 19 World. 

4 Reared. 12 Six more. 20 Bushel. 

5 Spring forward. 13 Sold away. 21 Half a peck. 
Q Blow. 14 Thirteen pounds 22 One. 

7 Hasted. two shillings. 23 Totter. 

S Went smooth and 15 Very worst. 24 Each other. 

constant. 16 Many. 



ROBERT BURNS. 161 

Wi tentie^ care Pll flit thy tether, 

To some hain'd rig,^ 

Whare ye may nobly rax^ your leather, 
Wi' sma''' fatigue. 

t Mindful. 3 Stretch. 

2 Saved ridge of pasture. 4 Small. 



TO A MOUSE. 

On turning lier up in her Nest, with the Plough,* November, 1785. 
1. 

WEE,^ sleekit,^ cow'rin,^ tim'rous beastie,'' 
O, what a panic's in thy breastie ! 
Thou need na^ start awa^ sae hasty, 

Wi' bickering^ brattle ! 
I wad^ be laith^ to rin^° an' chase thee, 

Wi' murdering patfle /^^ 

2. 
I'm truly sorry Man's dominion 
Has broken Nature's social union, 
An' justifies that ill opinion, 

Which makes thee startle, 
At me, thy poor, earth born companion. 
An' fellow- mortal ! 

1 Little. 5 Not. 9 Loath. 

2 Sleek. 6 Away so. 10 Run. 

3 Cowering. 7 Hurrying race. II Pettle. 

4 Beast. 8 Would. 

• This and the following beautiful poem were both composed while the au- 
thor was holding the plough. Indeed that occupation seemed to be peculiarly 
favourable to the successful inspiration of his muse ; as some of his very best 
verses iiave been conceived, while guiding the plough through the soil of hie 
native field. 



162 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

3. 
I doubt na, whyles/ but thou may thieve ; 
What then ? poor beastie, thou maun^ live ! 
A daiinen^-icker in a thrave* 

'S a sma" request : 
Fll get a blessin' wi' the lave*^ 

An' never miss't ! 



Thy wee-bit housie, too, in ruin ! 
It's silly wa's^ the win's are strewin' ! 
An' naething,^ now, to big^ a new ane,'" 

O' foggage green ! 
An' bleak December's winds ensuin', 

Baith^^ snelP^ an' keen. 

5. 
Thou saw the fields laid bare an' waste. 
An' weary Winter comin' fast, 
An' cozie^^ here, beneath the blast, 

Thou thought to dwell, 
Till crash the cruel coulter past 

Out thro' thy cell. 

' 6. 

That wee bit heap o' leaves an* stibble," 
Has cost thee monie" a weary nibble ! 
Now thou's turn'd out, for a' thy trouble, 

But^*^ house or hald. 
To thole^^ the winter's sleety dribble, ^^ 

An' cranreuch^^ cauld !^ 

7. 
But Mousie, thou art no thy lane,^' 
In ^xov'm^ foresight may be vain : 

1 Sometimes. 8 Notliing. 15 Many. 

2 Musi. 9 Build. 16 Witlioiii. 

3 An ear of grain. 10 One. 17 Bear. 

4 'I'wenty-four sheaves. 11 Both. 18 nrizzle. 

5 Small. 12 Piercing. 19 Hoai- frost, 

6 Rest. 13 Snug. 20 Cold. 

7 Walls. 14 Stubble. 21 Lout. 



ROBERT BURNS. 163 

The best laid schemes o' mice an' men, 

Gang^ aft a-gley, 
An' lea'e^ us nought but grief an' pain, 

For promis'd joy ! 

8. 
Still thou art blest, compar'd wi' me ! 
The present only toucheth thee ; 
But, Och !^ I backward cast my e'e^ 

On prospects drear I 
An' forward, tho' I canna* see^ 

I guess 2iX^ fear ! 

1 Go often wrong. 3 Oh ! 5 Cannot. 

2 Leave. 4 Eye. 



TO A MOUNTAIN DAISY. 

On turning on€ down,* with a Plough, in April, 1786, 
1. 

WEE\ modest, crimson-tipped flow'r, 
Thou's met me in an evil hour ; 
For I maun^ crush amang^ the stoure'* 

Thy slender stem : 
To spare thee now is past my pow'r, 

Thou bonnie^ g^^n* 

2. 
Alas ! it's no° thy neebor' sweet, 
The bonie Lark^ companion meet ! 
Bending thee 'mang the dewy weet^ ! 

Wi' spreckl'd breast, 

7 Neighbour. 

8 Moisture. 

* To extract out of incidents so common, and seemingly so trivial, as the 
turning up of a Mouse's Nest, or tlie turning down of a Mountain Daisy, so fine 
a strain of sentiment and imagery is the surest proof, as well as the most bril- 
liant triumph of original genius. 



I Little. 


4 Earth. 


2 Must. 


5 Beautiful. 


3 Among. 


6 Not. 



164 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

When up\vard-sprina:!!:<, blythe, to greet 
The purpling east. 

3. 
Cauld' blew the bitter-biting north 
Upon thy early, humble birth ; 
Yet cheerfully thou glinted^ forth 

Amid the storm, 
Scarce rear'd above the parent-earth 
Thy tender form. 

4. 
The flaunting flow'rs our gardens yield, 
High sheltering woods and wa's^ maun shield ; 
But thou, beneath the random bield'' 
O' elod or stane,^ 
Adorns the histie stibble^ -field. 

Unseen, alane^ 

5. 
There, in thy scanty mantle clad, 
Thy snawie^ bosom sun- ward spread, 
Thou lifts thy unassuming head 

In humble guise ; 
But now the share uptears thy bed, 

And low thou lies ! 

6. 
Such is the fate of artless Maid, 
Sweet fiow^ ret of the rural shade ! 
By love's simplicity betray'd. 

And guileless trust, 
Till she, like thee, all soil'd, is laid 
Low i' the dust. 

7. 
Such is the fate of simple Bard, 
On life's rough ocean luckless starr'd ! 



1 Cold. 


4 Shelter. 


7 Alone. 


2 Peeped. 


5 Stone. 


8 Snowy. 


3 Walls must. 


6 Barren stubble. 





ROBElRT BURNS. 165 

Unskilful he to note the card 

O^ prudent lore^ 
Till billows rage, and gales blow hard, 

And whelm him o'er ! 

8. 

Such fate to suffering "worth is giv'n. 
Who long with wants and woes have striven, 
By human pride or cunning driv'n, 

To mis'ry^s brink, 
Till wrenched of every stay but Heav'n^ 
He, ruin'd, sink ! 

9. 
Ev'n thou who mourn'st the Daisy's fate, 
That fate is thine — no distant date ; 
Stern Kum^s plough- share drives, elate, 
Full on thy bloom. 
Till crush'd beneath the furrow's weight, 
Shall be thy doom ! 



TO A HAGGIS.* 

1. 
FAIR^ fa' your honest, sonsie^ face, 
Great chieftain o'^ the puddin-race ! 
Aboon"* them a'* ye tak^ your place, 

Painch,^ tripe, or thairm : 
WeeP are ye wordy^ of a grace 

As lang's^" my arm. 

1 AUhaU. 5 All. sages. 

2 Jolly. 6 Take. 8 Well. 

^ Of. 7 Entrails used mak- 9 Worthy. 

4 Above. ing puddings and sau- 10 Long as. 

* A pudding mnde of suet, oatmeal, onions, pepper, &c. and boiled ia the 
stomach of a cow uv sheep. 



166 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

2. 

The groaning^ trencher there ye fill, 
Your hurdles^ like a distant hill, 
Y OUT pin wad^ help to mend a niill 

In time o' need, 
While thro' your pores the dews distil 

Like amber bead. 



His knife see rustic labour dight, 
An'^ cut you up wi'"* ready slight, 
Trenching your gushing entrails bright 

Like onie* ditch ; 
And then, O what a glorious sight, 

Warm-reekin'^ rich ! 

4. 
Then, horn for horn^ they stretch an' strive, 
Deil tak the hindmost, on they drive. 
Till a' their v^^eel-swall'd^ kytes belyve^ 

Are bent like drums ; 
Then auld^° Guidman,*^ maist^^ like to rive 
Bethankit hums.^^ 

5. 

Is there that owre^"* his French ragout^ 
Or olio that wad staw** a sow, 
Or fricassee wad mak^^ her spew 

Wi' perfect sconner,^^ 
Looks down wi' sneering, scornfu'^^ view, 

On sic'^ a dinner ? 

6. 
Poor devil ! see him owre his trash, 
As feckless^ as a withered rash, 

1 Battoeks. 8 Well swell'd bellys. 15 Surfeit. 

2 Woatd. 9 At length. 16 Make. 

5 And. 10 Old. 17 Loathing. 

4 With. 11 Head of the family. 18 Scornfui. 

5 Any. 12 Almost. 19 Such. 

6 Smoking. 13 Returns thanks. 20 Puny. 

7 Horn spoons. 14 Over. 



ROBERT BURNS. 167 

His spindle-shank a guid^ whip lash, 

His nieve* a nit ; 
Thro' bluidy^ flood or field to dash, 

O how unfit! 

7. 

But mark the rustic, haggis-fed^ 
The trembling earth resounds his tread, 
Clap in his vvalie'* nieve a blade, 

He'll mak it whissle," 
An' legs, an' arms, an' heads will sned,*^ 

Like taps^ o' thrissle. 

8. 
Ye Pow'rs wha' mak mankind your care, 
And dish them out their bill o' fare, 
Auld Scotland wants nae^ skinking ware 

That jaups^° in luggies : 
But, if ye wish her gratefu"^ pray'r, 

Gie'^ her a Haggis! 



1 Good. 


.5 Whistle. 


D No watry food. 


'2 Fist a nut. 


C Lop off. 


10 Dashes ia dishei. 


3 Bloody. 


7 Tops of thistles. 


11 Graceful. 


4 Ample fist. 


8 Who makes. 


12 Give. 



TO A LOUSE, 

On seeing one on a Lady's Bonnet, at Cliurch. 

The lady was a Miss Janet Mitchell, of Mauchline, who hav - 
ing treated oui* Author rather slightingly, awakened hi.*; 
pride and resentment. Nature has armed the poet with 
a sting, and it is a pity that any thing, except vice, should 
ever feel it. Burns, in this, and a few other in.stances, 
has levelled his weapon and inflicted a wound, to the se 
verity of which the fault of the offender bore no propoi 
tion.. 



168 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

1. 

HA ! vvhare^ ye gaun, ye crowlin'^ ferlie ? 
Your impudence protects you sairly:^ 
I canna'' say but ye strunt^ rarely, 

Owre^ gauze and lace ; 
The' faith, I fear, ye dine but sparely 
On sic^ a place. 

2. 
Ye ugly, creepin'', blastit wonner, 
Detested, shunn'd, by saunt^ and sinner, 
How dare ye set your fit^° upon her, 
Sae" fine a lady ! 
Gae^2 somewhere else and seek your dinner, 
On some poor body. 

3. 
Svvith,*^ in some beggar's haffet" squattle ; 
There ye may creep, and sprawl, and sprattle'* 
VVi' ither^^ kindred, jumping cattle. 

In shoals and nations ; 
VVhare" horn nor bane^^ ne'er dare unsettle 
Your thick plantations. 

4. 
Now haud^^ ye there, ye're out o' sight, 
Below the fatt'rels,^° snug and tight ; 
Na^^ faith ye yet ! ye'll no^^ be right 

Till ye've got on it. 
The vera^^ tapmost, towering height 
O^^"^ Miss^ s bonnet. 

5. 
My sooth I^* right bauld^^ ye set your nose out, 
As plump an' gray as onie^^ grozet : 

1 Where are you going. 10 Foot. 

2 Crawling wonder ! 

3 Greatly. 

4 Cannot say. 

5 Walk stately. 

6 Over. 

7 Such. 

8 Creeping, blasted 
wonder. 

9 Saint. 



10 Foot. 


19 Hold. 


U So. 


20 Folds. 


12 Go. 


21 Nay. 


13 Swift. 


22 Not. 


14 Temples sprawl. 


23 Very topmost. 


15 Scramble. 


24 or. 


16 Other. 


25 Truth. 


17 Where. 


26 Bold. 


18 Bone. 


27 Any gooseberry 



ROBERT BURNS. 



169 



O for some rank, mercurial rozet,^ 

Or fell, red smeddum,* 

Pd gie' you sic a hearty dose o't,* 

Wad* dress your droddum !' 

6. 

I wad na been surprised to spy 
You on an auld^ wife's flainen^ toy ; 
Or aiblins^ some bit duddie^° boy, 

On's wyliecoat ;" 
But Miss's fine Lunaj'di ! fie ! 

How dare you do't ? 

7. 
O, Jenny, dinna^^ toss your head, 
An' set your beauties a' abread !" 
Ye little ken" what cursed speed 

The blastie's" makin' '. 
Thae^" winks d(ndji?iger-e?ids, I dread, 
Are notice takin' !^' 

8. 
O wad some pow'r the giftie^^ gie us 
To see oursels^^ as others see us ! 
It wad frae^" monie a blunder free us 

An' foolish notion : 
What airs in dress an' gait wad lea'e us, 
And e'en devotion ! 



1 Ointment. 

2 Precipitate powder. 

3 Give. 

4 Of it. 

5 Would. 

6 Breech. 

7 Old. 



8 Flannel head>dress. 

9 Perhaps. 

10 Rugged. 

11 Flannel jacket. 

12 Do not. 

13 Abroad. 

14 Know. 



15 Dwarf is making. 

16 These. 

17 Taking. 

18 Gift. 

19 Ourselves. 

20 From raanv. 



170 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 



ON A SCOTCH BARD, 



Gone to the West Indies. 

This poem was published in the Kilmarnock edition, and 
from several illusions in it, there is little doubt of its be- 
ing composed upon himself, about the time he meditated 
a voyage to the West Indies. Burns, previous to the un- 
fortunate circumstance, which led him to think of " bid- 
ding an eternal farewell to his native country," had been 
the soul of the " rantin core" abeut Mauchline — had been 
famous for his attention to the lasses, busy slander added, 
wives and ividows — twelve years before the date of this 
poem he had committed the sin of rhyme ; of course had 
been for " many a year" the Laureate of Kyle — a Jillet 
had broke his heart ; for the affair of Miss Armour, after- 
wards Mrs. Burns, had almost put him into the list of ir- 
rationals — the notice taken of his " independent sto- 
mach" — and the frankness of his disposition which never 
allowed the coin to be under hiding in his pockets, are all 
so applicable to Burns himself, that one cannot long hesi- 
tate in forming a decision. 



I. 

A' YE* wha live by soups^ o' drink, 
A' ye who live by crambo-clink,^ 
A' ye vi'ha live and never think, 

Come, mourn wi'"* me ! 
Our billie^s glen* us a' a jink,^ 

An" owre the Sea. 

2. 

Lament him, a" ye rantin'^ core, 
Wha dearly like a random- splore ;'° 
Nae" mair he'll join the merry -roar ^ 
In social key ; 

1 All ye who. 5 Given. 9 Ranting company. 

2 Spoonfuls of. 6 Slip. 10 Random frolic. 

3 Rhymes. 7 And ov«r, 11 No more. 

4 With. 8 All. 



ROBERT BURNS. 171 

For now he's taen^ anither shore, 

An' owre the Sea. 

3. 
The bonnie lasses weep may wiss him, 
And in their dear petitions place him : 
The widows, wives, an' a' may bless him, 

Wi' tearfu' e'e f 
For weeP I wat they'll sairly^ miss him 
That's owre the Sea ! 

4. 
O Fortune, they hae° room to grumble ! 
Hadst thou ta'en^ afF some drowsy bummie,* 
Wha can do nought but fyke^ an' fumble, 

'Tvvad^° been nae plea ; 
But he was gleg'^ as onie wumble, 

That's owre the Sea 1 

6. 

Auld^* cantie Kyle may weepers wear, 
An' stain them wi' the saut," saut tear : 
'Twill mak" her poor, auld heart, I fear, 

In flinders" flee : 
He was her laureate monie^^ a year. 

That's owre the Sea. 

7. 

He saw misfortune's cauld^' nor-west 
Lang" mustering up a bitter blast ; 
A jiilet^^ brak his heart at last, 

111 may she be ! 
So, took a birth afore the mast. 

An' owre the Sea. 

1 Taken another. 8 Blunderer. 14 Make. 

2 Well may wish. y Trifle. 15 Broken pieces fly. 

3 Tearful eye. 10 It would. 16 Many. 

4 Well 1 know. 11 K^en as any wimble. 17 Cold. 

5 Sorely. 12 Old merry Kilmar- 18 Long. 

6 Have. nock. 19 Jilt brok**. 

7 Taken off. 13 Salt 



170, THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

8. 

To tremble under Fortune's cummock,' 
On scarce a bellyfu' o' drummock,^ 
Wi' his proud, independent stomach, 
Could ill agree ; 
So, rovv't" his hurdles in a hajnmoc/Cy 
An' owre the Sea. 

9. 

He ne'er was gien to great misguiding, 
Yet coin his pouches* wad na^ bide in ; 
Wi' him it ne'er was wider hiding ; 
He dealt it free : 
The muse was a' that he took pride in. 
That's owre the Sea. 

10. 

Jamaica bodies, use him weel, 
An' hap^ him in a cozie biel :^ 
Ye'll find him ay^ a dainty chiel, 

And fou'^ o' glee : 
He wad na wrang'd^" the vera" diel, 

That's owre the Sea. 

11. 

Fare weel, '^ my rhyme composing billie ! 
Your native soil was right ill-willie ;" 
But may ye flourish like a lily. 

Now bonilie !'" 
I'll toast ye in my hindmost gillie, ^^ 

Tho' owre the Sea 1 



1 Rod. 5 Would not. 10 Wronged 

2 Mixture of oatmeal 6 Cover. 11 Very, 
and water. 7 Snug shelter. 12 FarewelL 

3 Wrapped his but- 8 Always a pleasant 13 Niggardly, 
tocks. fellow. 14 Handsomely 

\ Pockets. 9 Full of. 15 Gill. 



ROBERT BURNS. ITS 



THE JOLLY BEGGARS. 



A CANTATA. 



The following poem, for humorous description and nice dis- 
crimination of character, is inferior to none of the same 
length in the whole range of English poetry. The scene 
indeed is laid in the vei-y lowest department of low life, 
the actors being a set of strolling vagrants, met to carouse, 
and barter their rags and plunder for liquor in a hedge 
ale-house. Yet even in describing the movements of such 
a group, the native taste of the poet has never suffered his 
pen to slide into any thing coarse or disgusting. The ex- 
travagant glee and outrageous frolic of the beggars are 
ridiculously contrasted with their maimed limbs, rags, and 
crutches — ^the sordid and squalid circumstances of their 
appearance are judiciously thrown into the shade. Nor is 
the art of the poet less conspicuous in the individual 
figures, than in the general mass. tFhe festive vagrants 
are distinguished from each other by 'personal appearance 
and character, as much as any fortuitous assembly in the 
higher orders of life. The group, it must be observed, is 
of Scottish character, and doubtless natives of tliat na- 
tion, are more familiar with its varieties than v/e are, yet 
the distinctions are too well marked to escape even the 
American reader. The most prominent persons are a 
maimed soldier and his female companion, a hackneyed 
follower of a camp ; a stroller, late the consort of a High ■ 
land ketterer or sturdy beggar — 'but weary fa' the wac- 
fu' widdie !' Being now at liberty, she becomes an object 
of rivalry between a ' pigmy scraper with his fiddle,- 
and a strolling tinker. The latter a desperate bandit, 
like most of his profession, terrifies the musician out of 
the field, and is preferred by the damsel of course. A 
wandering ballad singer, with a brace of doxies, is last in- 
troduced upon the stage. Each of these mendicants sings 
a song in character, and such a collection of humorous 
lyrics, connected by vivid poetical discription, is not, per- 
haps, to be paralleled in the English language. 



174 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

RECITATIVO. 
1. 

WHEN lyart* leaves bestrow' the yird ;^ 
Or wavering like the Bauckie-bird,^ 

Bedim cauld^ Boreas' blast ; 
When hailstanes^ drive wi' bitter skyte,' 
And infant frosts begin to bite, 

In hoary cranreuch* drest ; 
Ae' night at e'en a merry core 
O' randie,^" gangrel bodies, 
In Poosie-Nansie's held the splore," 
To drink their orra duddies :* 
Wi'^* qauffing and laughing, 

They ranted and they sang ; 
Wi' jumping and thumping. 
The vera'' girdle rang. 

2. 
First niest" the fire in auld" red rags, 
Ane sat, weeP^ brac'd wi' mealy bags. 

And knapsack a' in order ; 
His doxy lay within his arm, 
Wi' usquebae an' blankets warm, 

She blinkit*' on her sodger :^^ 
An' ay he gies the tozie^^ drab 

The tith*er'° skelpin'"' kiss. 
While she held up her greedy gab^^ 
Just like an aumos^^ dish. 

Ilk^'* smack still, did crack still, 

Just like a cadger's^* whip, 
Then staggering and swaggering 
He roar'd this ditty up — 

1 Withered. 10 Quarrelsome strolling.18 Soldier. 

2 Bestrew. 11 Frolic. ' 19 Sliaggy. 

3 Earth. 12 V^^iih. 20 On ■ alter another. 

4 Bat. 13 Very. 21 Smacking. 

5 Cold. 14 Next. 22 IMoiilli. 

6 Hailstones. 15 Old. 23 Alms dish. 

7 Force. 16 Well. 24 Every. 

-S Hoarfrost, 17 Peeped. 25 Carrier's. 

9 One. 

* Orra duddies, supernumerary old clothes. 



ROBERT BURNS. 175 

AIR — TUNE — Soldier' s Joy, 

1. 

I am a son of Mars, who have been in many wars, 
And show my cuts and scars wherever I come ; 
This here was for a wench, and that other in a trench, 
When 'velcoming the French, at the sound of the 
drum. 

Lai de daudle, &c. 

2. 
My prenticeship I past where my leader breath'd his 

last, 
When the bloody die was cast on the heights of 

Abram ; 
I served out my trade when the gallant game was 

play'd 
And the Moro low was laid at the sound of the drum. 

Lai de daudle, &c. 

3. 
I lastly was with Curtis among the floating batt'ries, 
And there I left for witness an arm and a limb ! 
Yet let my country need me, with Elliot to head me, 
I'd clatter on my stumps at the sound of a drum. 

Lai de daudle, &:c. 

4. 
And now tho' I must beg with a wooden arm and 

leg, 
And many a tatter'd rag hanging over my b-m, 
Fm as happy with my wallet, my bottle and my callet, 
As when I us'd in scarlet to follow a drum. 

Lai de daudle, &c. 

5. 
What tho' v^ith hoary locks, I must stand the winter 

shocks. 
Beneath the woods and rocks oftentimes for a home, 
When the 'tother bag I sell, and the 'tother bottle tell, 
I could meet a troop of hell, at the sound of the drum„ 

Lai de daudle, &c. 



176 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

IIECITATIVO. 

He ended ; and the kebars^ sheuk, 

Aboon^ the chorus roar ; 
While frighted rattons^ backward leuk,* 

And seek the benmost* bore ; 
A fairy fiddler frae* the neuk, 

He skirlM^ out encore ! 
But up arose the martial chuck, 

And laid the loud uproar. 

AIR — TUNE — Soldier Laddie. 

1. 

I once was a maid, tho' I cannot tell when, 
And still my delight is in proper young men ; 
Some one of a troop of dragoons was my daddie, 
No wonder I'm fond of a sodger laddie. 

Sing, Lai de lal, &c. 

2. 
The first of my loves was a swaggering blade, 
To rattle the thundering drum was his trade ; 
His leg was so tight, and his cheek was so ruddy, 
Transported I was with my sodger laddie. 

Sing, Lal de lal, Sic. 

3. 
But the godly old chaplain left him in the lurch, 
The sword I forsook for the sake of the church ; 
He ventur'd the soul^ and 1 risked the body^ 
Twas then I prov'd false to my sodger laddie. 

Sing, Lal de lal, &c. 

4. 
Full soon I grew sick of my sanctified sot, 
The regiment at large for a husband I got ; 
From the gilded spontoon to the fife I was ready, 
I asked no more but a sodger laddie. 

Sing, Lal de lal, &c. 



1 Rafters shook. 


4 Look. 


6 From the corner. 


'2 Above. 


5 Farthermost hole. 


7 Squeaked. 


3 Rats. 







ROBERT BURNS. irr 

5. 
But the peace it reduc'd me to be£^ in despair, 
Till I met my old boy at Cunninsjham fair ; 
His rags regimental they fluttered so gaudy, 
My heart it rejoic'd at my sodger laddie. 

Sing, Lai de lal, &c. 

6. 
And now I have liv'd — I know not how long, 
And still I can join in a cup or a song ; 
But whilst with both hands I can hold the glass steady., 
Here's to thee, my hero, my sodger laddie. 

Sing, Lal de lal, &c. 

RECITATIVO. 

Then neist^ outspak a raucle^ carlin, 
Wha' kent fu' weel to cleek"* the sterling, 
For mony* a pursie she had hooked. 
And had in mony a well been ducked. 
Her dove had been a Highland laddie, 
But weary^ fa' the waefu' widdie ! 
Wi' sighs and sobs she thus began 
To wail her braw^ John Highlandman. 

AIR — TUNE — an ye were dead gudeman. 

1. 

A Highland lad my love was born, 
The Lalland* laws he held in scorn ; 
But he still was faithfu' to his clan, 
My gallant braw John Highlandman. 

Sing, hey my braw John Highlandman I 
Sing, ho my braw John Highlandman I 
There's not a lad in a' the Ian', 
Was match for my John Highlandman. 

1 Next outspoke. 4 Seize by fraud. 7 Handsome. 

2 Fearless stout old 5 Mwnj' purses. 8 Lowland, 
woman. C 111 befall the woeful 

3 Who knew full well. lialter. 



178 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

2. • 
With his phihbeg^ an' tartan plaid, 
An' gude^ claymore down by his side, 
The ladies' hearts he did trepan, 
My gallant braw John Highlandman. 

Sing, hey, Sic. 

3. 
We ranged a' from Tweed to Spey, 
An' liv'd like lords and ladies gay ; 
For a Lalland face he feared none, 
My gallant braw John Highlandman. 

Sing, hey, he. 

4. 
They banish'd him beyond the sea, 
But ere the bud was on the tree, 
Adown my cheeks the pearls rang, 
Embracing my John Highlandman. 

Sing, hey, &c, 

5. 
But oh I they catch'd him at the last, 
And bound him in a dungeon fast ; 
My curse upon them every one, 
They've hang'd my braw John Highlandman 

Sing, hey, &c. 

6. 
And now a widow, I must mourn 
The pleasures that will ne'er return ; 
No comfort but a hearty cann. 
When I think on John Highlandman. 

Sing, hey, Sec. 

REGIT ATI VO. 

A pigmy scraper wi' his fiddle 

Wha us'd at trysts' and fairs to driddle,** 

1 Short petticoat worn 3 Cattle market, 
by the Highlanders. 4 Play wretched I j 

2 Good broad sword. 



ROBERT BURNS. 179 

Her strappan^ limb and gawsy^ ini-Jdle 

He reach'd nae^ higher, 

Had hol'd his heartie like a riddle, 

An' blawn't* on fire. 

Wi' hand on haunch, and upward e'e,* 
He croon'd'^ his sjamut, one, two, three, 
Then in an Arioso key, 

The wee' Apollo 
Set off wi^ Allegretto glee 

His giga solo. 

AIR — TUNE — Whistle oxvre the lave d't. 

1. 

Let me ryke* up to dight^ that tear. 

An' go wi' me to be my dear. 
An' then your ev'ry care and fear 

May whistle owre^° the lave" o't. 

CHORUS. 

I am a fiddler to my trade. 
An' a' the tunes that e'er I play'd. 
The sweetest still to wife or maid. 
Was whistle owre the lave o't. 

2. 

At kirns^^ an' weddings we'se^^ be there, 

An' O ! sae^^ nicely we will fare ; 
We'll bouse about till Daddie Care, 

Sing, whistle owre the lave o't. 

I am, &c. 

3. 
Sae merrily the banes" we'll pyke," 
An' sun oursels^' about the dyke,^^ 



1 Handsome. 


7 Little. 


13 We will. 


2 Stately. 


8 Reach. 


14 So. 


3 No. 


9 Wipe. 


15 Bones. 


4 Blowed it. 


10 Over. 


16 Pi'tk. 


5 Eye. 


11 Rest of it. 


17 Om-selves. 


fi Hum'd. 


12 Harvest home. 


1 8 Stone fence 



180 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

An' at our leisure when we^ike, 
We'll whistle owre the lave o't. 

I am, &c. 

4. 
But bless me wi' your heaven o' charms, 

And while I kittle^ hair on thairms, 
Hunger^ cauld^ an' a' sic^ harms, 
May whistle ovvre the lave o't. 

I am &c. 

RECITATIVO. 

Her charms had struck a sturdy Caird,'' 

As weel as poor Gutscraper ; 
He taks* the fiddler by the beard. 

And draws a roosty^ rapier — 
He swoor'' by a' was swearing worth, 

To speet^ him like a pliver,' 
Unless he would fra'^" that time forth, 

Relinquish her for ever. 

Wi' ghastly e'e, poor tweedle-dee 

Upon his hunkers" bended, 
And pray'd for grace wi' ruefu' face. 

And so the quarrel ended. 
But tho' his little heart did grieve, 

When round the tinker prest her, 
He feign'd to snirtle in his sleeve, 

When thus the caird address'd her. 

AIR — TUNE — Clout the Caudron. 

1. 

My bonnie lass I work in brass, 
A tinker is my station ; 

1 Rub. 5 Takes. 9 Plover. 

2 Cold. 6 Rusty. 10 From. 

3 Such. 7 Swore. 11 Hams, 

4 Travelling tinker. 8 Spit. 



ROBERT BURNS. 181 

I've travelled round all Christian ground 

In this my occupation. 
IVe ta'en the gold, I've been enroll'd 

In many a noble squadron ; 
But vain they searched, when off I march'd 

To go and clout the caudron.^ 

Fve ta'en the gold, &c. 

2. 

Despise that shrimp, that wither'd imp, 

Wi' a' his noise and cap'rin',^ 
An' tak' a share wi' those that bear 

The budget an' the apron. 
An' by that stowp !^ my faith an' houpe,^ 

An' by that dear Keilbaigie,* 
If e'er ye want, or meet wi' scant. 

May I ne'er weet* my craigie,® 

An' by that stowp, &.C. 

RECITATIVO. 

The caird prevail'd — th' unblushing fair, 

In his embraces sunk. 
Partly wi' love o'ercome sae sair,' 

An- partly she was drunk. 
Sir Violino with an air. 

That show'd a man o' spunk, 
Wish'd unison between the pair, 

An' made the bottle clunk 

To their health that night. 

But hurchin Cupid shot a shaft 

That play'd a dame a shavie, 
The fiddler rak'd her fore and aft, 

Behint the chicken^ cavie. 

1 CHldron. 4 Hope. 7 So sore; f 

2 Capering. 5 Wet.v 8 Hen-coop, 

3 Liquor measure. 6 Throati ' 

" A peculiar sort of whiskey so called ; a great favourite with Poosie Nau- 
sie's clubs. 



182 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

Her lord, a wight o' Homer's* craft, 

Tho' limping wi' the spavie,' 
He hirplM^ up, an' lap like daft,^ 

And shor'd" them Dainty Davie 
O boot that night. 

He was a care- defying blade, 

As ever Bacchus listed, 
Tho' fortune sair upon him laid, 

His heart she ever miss'd it. 
He had no wish but — to be glad, 

Nor w^ant but — when he thirsted ; 
He hated nought but — to be sad. 

And thus the Muse suggested 

His sang* that night. 

AIR — TUNE — For a? that^ and a' that. 

1. 

I am a bard of no regard, 

Wi' gentle folks, an' a' that ; 
But Homer-like, the glowran^ byke, 

Frae town to town I draw that. 

CHORUS. 

For a' that, an' a' that,^ 

An' twice as muckle's a' that; 

I've lost but ane,* I've twa^ behin', 
I've wife enough for a' that. 

2. 
1 never drank the Muse's stank,^" 

Castalia's burn," an' a' that ; 
But there it streams, and richly reams,^- 
My Helicon I ca'^' that. 

For a' that, &c. 



1 Spavin. 


C Gazing crowd. 


10 Pool. 


2 Crawled. 


7 And all that. 


11 Rivelet. 


3 Leaped madly. 


8 One. 


12 Froths. 


4 Offered. 


9 Two behind. 


13 Call. 


5 Song. 







Homer is allowed to be the most aneient ballad singer on record 



ROBERT BURNS. 18J 

3. 
Great love I bear to a' the fair, 

Their humble slave, an' a' that ; 
But lordly will, I hold it still 
A mortal sin to thravv^ that. 

For a' that, &c. 

4. 
In raptures sweet, this hour we meet 

Wi' mutual love, an' a' that ; 
But for how lang the Jlie may stang,^ 
Let inclination law that. 

For a' that, &c. 

5. 
Their tricks and craft have put me daft, 

They've ta'en me in, an' a' that : 
But clear your decks, an' here's the sex I 

I like the jads^ for a' that. 

For a' that, an' a' that, 

An' twice as muckle's a' that ; 

My dearest bluid, to do them guid. 
They're welcome till't for a' that, 

RECITATIVO. 

So sung the bard — and Nansie's wa's** 
Shook with a thunder of applause, 

Re-echo'd from each mouth ; 
They toom'd^ their pocks,^ and pawn'd their duds,"^ 
They scarcely left to co'er^ their fuds, 

To quench their lovvan^ drouth. 
Then owre again, the jovial thrang,^° 

The poet did request, 
To lowse'^ his pack and wale'^ a sang, 

A ballad o' the best : 



1 Contradict. 


6 Meal bags. 


9 Burning thirst. 


2 Sting. 


7 Clothes. 


10 Throng. 


3 Jades. 


8 Cover their naked- 


11 Untie- 


4 Walls. 


ness. 


12 Choose a song. 


5 Emptied. 







184 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

He rising, rejoicing 

Between his tvva Deborahs^ 
Looks round him, an^ Found them 

Impatient for the chorus. 

AIR — TUNE — Jolly mortals Jill your glasses, 

1. 

See ! the smoking bowl before us, 

Mark our jovial ragged ring ! ' 
Round and round take up the chorus, 

And in raptures let us sing. 

CHORUS. 

A fig for those by law protected! 

Liberty'^ s a glorious feast I 
Courts for cowards were ereeted, 

Churches built to please the priest. 

2. 
What is tide ? what is treasure ? 

What is reputation's care ? 
If we lead a life of pleasure, 
'Tis no matter how or where ! 

A fig, &c. 

3. 
With the ready trick and fable, 

Round we wander all the day ; 
And at night, in barn or stable, 
Hug our doxies on the hay. 

A fig, Sec. 

4. 
Does the train- attended carriage, 

Through the country lighter rove ? 
Does the sober bed of marriage 
Witness brighter scenes of love ? 

A fig, &c. 



ROBERT BURNS. 185 

5. 



Life is all a variorum ^ 

We regard not how it goes ; 

l^et them cant about decorum. 
Who have characters to lose. 

A fig, &c. 

6. 
Here's to budgets, bags and wallets ! 

Here's to all the vvand'ring train ! 
Here's our ragged brats and callets ! 

One and all cry out, Amen ! 



THE INVENTORY. 



ia answer to a mandate sent by Mr. R. Aikin, (attorney, and 
surveyor for the county, of the windows, carriages, &c.) 
to each farmer, ordering him to send a signed list of his 
horses, servants, wheel -carriages, and the like, and whe- 
ther he was a married man or^ bachelor, and what chil- 
dren he had. 



SIR, as your mandate did request, 
I send you here a faithfu'^ list, 
O' gudes'^ an' gear, an' a' my graith,^ 
To which I'm clear to gie* my aith.' 

Imprimis, then for carriage cattle, 
I hae four brutes o' gallant mettle, 
As ever drew before a pettle/ 

1 Faithful, 3 Harness, &c. 5 Oath. 

•2. Goods snd ch&ttles. 4 (rive. 6 Plough stafF. 



186 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

My Lan^ afore' s^ a guicP auld has been, 

An' wight an' wilfu' a' his daj's seen. 

My han^ ahin^s,-\ a vveel gaun^ fillie, 

That afi^ has borne me hame^ frae KilliCjJ 

An' your auld burro'^ mony*^ a time, 

In days when riding was nae' crime : 

But ance,^ whan in my wooing pride, 

I, like a blockhead, boost^ to ride, 

The wilfu' creature sae'° I pat" to, 

(L — d pardon a' my sins, an' that too !) 

I play'd my fillie sic^^ a shavie, 

She's a' bedevil'd vvi' the spavieJ' 

My Furr ahirr's) a wordy'* beast. 

As e'er in tug or tow was trac'd. — 

The fourth's a Highland Donald hastie, 

A d-mn'd red-wud/* Kilburnie blastie.^® 

Foreby" a Cowt,^^ o' Cowts the wale,^^ 

As ever ran before a tail ; 

If he be spar'd to be a beast, 

He'il draw me fifteen pun'^° at least. — 

Weel carriages I hae^^ but few, 

Three carts, an' twa^- are feckly^^ new ; 

Ae^* auld wheelbarrow, mair^* for token, 

Ae leg an' baith^*^ the trams^^ are broken ; 

1 made a poker o' the spin'le,^^ 

An' my auld mother brunl^^ the trin'le.^" — 

For men, I've three mischievous boys, 

Mwi deils for rantin' and for noise ; 

A gaudsman^^ ane,^^ a thrasher tother, 

Wee Davock^^ bauds the nowt in fother.^'* 

24 One old. 

25 More. 

26 Both. 
2r Shafts. 

28 Spindle. 

29 Burnt. 

30 Trundle. 

31 Driver. 
SI One. 

33 Little Davie. 

34 Feeds theoxeq. 

* The foie-horse on the left-hand in the plough. 

fl h' hindmost on the left-hand in the plough. ^ KilmarpOfk. 

4 The hindmost horse on the left-hand of the plough. 



] Good old. 


13 Spaven. 


iJ AVell going. 


14 AVorthy. 


3 on 


15 Stark mad. 


4 Home from. 


16 Dwarf. 


5 Borough. 


17 Besides. 


6 Manv. 


18 Colt. 


7 No. ' 


19 Choice. 


8 Once when. 


20 Pounds. 


9 Must needs. 


21 Have. 


10 So. 


22 Two. 


11 Put. 


23 Nearly. 


12 Such an injury. 





ROBERT BURNS. 187 

I rule them as I ouj^jht, discreetly, 

An' aften^ labour them completely. 

An' ay^ on Sundays duly nightly, 

I on the questions targe^ them tightly ; 

Till faith, wee Davock's turn'd sae gleg,'* 

Tho' scarcely langer^ than your leg, 

He'll screed^ you afF'^ Effectual Calling, 

As fast as ony^ in the dwalling.^ — 

I've nane" in female servan' station, 

(L — d keep me ay frae" a' temptation !) 

I hae nae'^ wife ; and that my bliss is, 

An' ye have laid nae tax on misses ; 

An' then if kirk^^ folks dinna^^ clutch me, 

I ken^* the devils dare na^^ touch me. 

Wi' weans^^ I'm mair than weeP^ contented, 

Heav'n sent me ane mae^^ than I wanted. 

My sonsie^^ smirking dear bought Bess, 

She stares the daddy in her face, 

Enough of ought ye like but grace 

But her, my bonnie sweet wee lady, 

I've paid enough for her already, 

An' gin^^ ye tax her or her mither,^^ 

B' the L — d ! ye'se^^ get them a thegither.^ 

And now, remember Mr. Aiken, 
Nae kind of licence out I'm takin' ; 
Frae this time forth, I do declare, 
I'se^* ne'er ride horse nor hizzie^® mair ; 
Thro' dirt and dub for life I'll paidle,^^ 
Ere I sae dear pay for a saddle ; 
My travel a' on foot I'll shank it, 
I've sturdy bearers, Gade be thankit.^** — 
The Kirk and you may tak^^ you that, 
It puts but little in your pat :^° 



1 Often. 


11 From. 


21 If. 


2 Always. 


12 No. 


22 Mother. 


3 Catechise. 


1;3 Church. 


23 You shall 


4 Sharp. 


14 Do not. 


24 Together. 


5 Longer. 


15 Know. 


25 I will. 


6 Repeat. 


16 Not. 


26 Hussy. 


7 Off. 


17 ChiUhen. 


97 Plorl. 


8 Any. 


18 Well. 


28 Thanked. 


9 D^velling. 


19 One more. 


29 Take. 


10 None. 


'20 Engiiging. 


oO I'ot. 



i8g THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

Sae dinna put me in your buke,' 
Nor for my ten white shillings luke.^ 

This list wi' my ain^ hand I wrote it, 
Day and date as under notit/ 
Then know all ye whom it concerns, 

Subscripsi huic^ Robert Burns. 

Mossgiel, Feb. 22</, 1786. 

1 Book. 3 Own. 

2 Look. 4 Noted. 



THE KIRK'S ALARM. 

A SATIRE. 

The Rev. Dr, MacGill was the author of a book, which con- 
tained many sentiments, savouring highly of Socinianism. 
It was violently attacked by Mr. Morse, Burger minister 
of Tarbolton, who exposed its errors in a large octavo 
pamphlet. As the Socinian tenets are diametrically op- 
posite to the creed, which every clergyman of the Scot- 
tish Church must publicly and solemnly avow before he 
can receive ordination ; such a departure from Ortho- 
doxy, as Mr. Moore alleged against Dr. MacGill, drew the 
attention of the Presbytery. He was summoned to appear 
before that body ; and the allegations against him seemed 
so formidable, that it was the opinion of most people that 
he would be suspended from his office, Burns, for many 
private reasons, was an enemy to the clergy of the West, 
as a body ; although there were a few individuals among 
them, whom he highly esteemed. Of this latter class was 
Dr. MacGill ; and on this occasion, we find Burns thus 
writing to a friend. " You must have heard of Dr. Mac- 
" Gill and his heretical book. God help him, poor man ! 
" Though he is one of the worthiest, as well as one of the 
" ablest of the whole priesthood of the Kirk of Scotland, 
" in every sense of that ambiguous term ; yet the poor 
" Doctor and his numerous family are in iminent danger 
'• of being thrown out to the mercy of the winter-winds. 



ROBERT BURNS. 1H9 

' The enclosed ballad on that business is, I confess, too 
" local, but I laughed myself at some conceits in it, though 
" I am convinced in my conscience that there are a good 
" many heavy stanzas in it too." Whatever Burns might 
intend to accomplish by Vi^riting this poem, it does not at 
all appear to have been calculated to produce any thing 
substantial in favour of the Doctor ; but rather the reverse. 
He is but an unskilful advocate, who, to clear his client, 
spends all his breath in abusing the jury. The ambiguity 
in which the Doctor had clothed his offensive doctrines, 
his amiable private character, and the moderation of the 
vScottish clergy, saved him from that " imminent danger" 
which Burns had deprecated. This poem was written in 
1789. 



1. 
ORTHODOX, orthodox, wha» believe in John Knox, 

Let me sound an alarm to your conscience ; 
There's a heretic blast has been blawn^ in the wast,^^ 

That what is no sense must be nonsense. 

2. 

Dr. Mac,* Dr. Mac, you should stretch on a rack- 
To strike evil doers vvi'^ terror ; 

To join faith and sense upon ony' pretence, 
Is heretic, damnable error. 

3. 
Town of Ayr, town of Ayr, it was mad I declare, 

To meddle wi' mischief a-brewing ; 
Provost John,t is still deaf to the church's relief, 

And orator BobJ is its ruin. 

4. 
D'rymple^ mild, D'rymple mild, tho' your heart'''= 
like a child, 
And your life like the new driven snaw,* 

1 Who. 3 West. 5 Anr. 

2 Blown. 4 With. P Sni's^- 

• Df. M'Gill, one of the ministers .^f Kyr 

+ Mr. John Aikin. 

i Mr. Robeit Aiken, attorney. 

§ The Rev. Dr. Dalryn-plt- 



190 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

Yet that winna^ save ye, aulcl^ Satan must have ye, 
For preaching that three's ane^ and tvva. 

5. 

Rumble John,* Rumble John, mount the steps vvi' ^ 
j^roan, 

Cry the book is \vi' heresy cramm'd ; 
Then lug out your ladle, deal brinvstone like adle,"* 

And roar every note of the d — n'd. 

6. 
Simper James,! Simper James, leave the fair Killie^ 
dames. 
There's a holier chace in your view ; 
I'll lay on your head, that the pack ye'll soon lead. 
For puppies like you there's but few. 

7. 
Singet Sawney,J Singet Sawney, are ye herding the 
penny, 
Unconscious what evils await; 
Wi' a jurnp, yell and howl, alarm every soul, 
For the foul thief is just at your gate. 



Daddy Auld,^ Daddy Auld, there's a tod* in the 
fauld,' 

A tod meikle^ waur than the clerk ;|| 
Tho' ye can do little skaith," ye'll be in at the deaths 

And' gif ^° ye canna bite, ye may bark. 

1 Will not. 5 Kilmarnock. 8 Much worse. 

2 Old. 6 Pcx. 9 Harm. 

3 One and two. 7 Fold. 10 If ye cannot. 

4 Filth. 

• The Rev. John Russel, minister of the Chapel of Ease, Kilmarnock, a 
most excellent, but very austere man, and thouglit to insist, in his sermons, a 
little too much on the terrors of the law. 

t Di'. James M'Kinlay, one nf the ministers of the Laigh Kirk of Kilmar- 
nock, and who for nearly forty years, has maintained the character of being 
the most eloquent and popular pr- ach /r of Ayrsliire. 

i The Rev. Alexander Moody, of Hiccaitoii. 

§ The Rev. Mr. Auld, of Maucheiiiw. 

11 Mr. Gavin Harailton, town clerk of Maueheline. 



ROBERT BURNS. 191 

9. 

Davie Bluster,* Davie Bluster, if for a saint ye do 
muster. 
The corps is no nice of recruits ; 
Yet to worth let's be just, royal blood you might 
boast, 
If the ass was the king of the brutes. 

10. 
Jamy Goose,t J amy Goose, ye ha'e* made but toom 
roose,^ 
In hunting the wicked lieutenant; 
But the doctor's your mark, for the L — d's haly^ ark, 
He has cooper'd and caw'd^ a vvrang* pin in't. 

IL 

Poet Willie,^ Poet Willie, gie^ the doctor a volley, 
Wi' your libertifs chain and your wit ; 

O'er Pegasus' side ye ne'er laid a stride, 

Ye but smelt, man, the place where he sh — t. 

12. 
Andro Gouk,§ Andro Gouk, ye may slander the 
book. 
And the book not the waur let me tell ye ; 
Ye are rich, and look big, but lay by hat and wig, 
And ye'll hae a calf's head o' sma"" value. 

13. 
Barr Steennie,|| Barr Steennie, what mean ye ? what 
mean ye ? 
If ye'll meddle nae mair' wi' the matter. 
Ye may hae some pretence to havins^ and sense, 
Wi' people wha ken^° ye nae better. 



1 Have. 


.5 Wrong, 


8 No more; 


2 Empty boast. 


6 Ciivc. 


9 Decorum. 


3 Holy. 


7 Of small. 


10 Who know 


4 Driven. 







• The Rev. David Grant, of Ochultree. 
t The Rev. James Young, ofCunmock. 

% The R. V. Willirtiii Pebl)Us, D. D. auihor of a Poem, called the Crisis, ot 
no gi' at .neiit, minister oi Newton-upo'i- Ayr. 
§ The Rev. Dr. Andrew Mitchell ot Monckton. 
!1 The Rev. Stephen Young, of Barr. 



19£ THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

14. 
Irvine side,*^ Irvine side, wi' your turkey-cock pride, 

Of manhood but sma' is your share ; 
Ye've the figure 'tis true, even your faes will allow, 

And your friends they dare grant you nae mair. 

15. 

Muirland Jock,f Muirland Jock, when the L — d 
makes a rock 

To crush common sense for her sins, 
If ill manners were wit, there's no mortal so fit, 

To confound the poor Doctor at ance.^ 

16. 

Holy Wi]l,J Holy Will, there was wit i' your skull^ 
When ye pilfer'd the alms o' the poor ; 

The timmer* is scant, when ye're ta'en for a saunt, 
Wha should swing in a rape' for an hour. 

17. 
Calvin's sons, Calvin's sons, seize your sp'ritual guns, 

Ammunition you never can need ; 
Your hearts are the stuff", will be powther* enough. 

And your skulls are storehouses o' lead. 

18. 
Poet Burns, Poet Burns, wi' your priest- skelping 
turns. 
Why desert ye your auld native shire ; 
Your muse is a gipsie, e'n tho' she were tipsie, 
She cou'd* ca' us nae waur than we are, 

1 Once. 3 Rope. 5 CoulcJ. 

'i Timber. 4 Powder. 

• The Rev. Dr. George Smith, of Galston. 
f The Rev. John Sutherland, of Muirkirk. 
4- Mr. William Fisher, elder, Mauchlinc. 



ROBERT BURNS. 19S 



THE TWA HERDS. 



This piece was among the first of the Author's productions, 
which he submitted to the public. He had some notion 
himself, that it had some merit ; but to prevent the worst, 
he gave a copy of it to a friend who was very fond of suck 
things, stating, that he could not guess who was the au- 
thor of it, but that he thought it pretty clever. With a 
certain description of clergy, as well as laity, it met with 
a roar of applause. It was occasioned by a dispute be- 
tween the Rev. Alex. Moody, of Riccarton, and the Rev. 
John Russell, of Kilmarnock. It seems that a Mr. Crooks, 
schoolmaster, Kilmarnock, had purchased a lot of ground, 
but was short of a sufficient sum to erect a house on it. 
However, he applied to Mr. Moody, who was rich, and 
rather usuriously inclined, to lend him money on interest. 
Mr. Moody advanced the sum which Mr. Crooks wanted, 
on mortgage ; but shortly after the house was erected, the 
reverend gentleman demanded his money. It being out of 
the power of Mr. Crooks to pay it at that time, his relent- 
less creditor took steps to foreclose the mortgage, and 
bring the property to public sale. About this time several 
of the clergy attended a sacramental occasion at Mauch- 
line, among whom were Messrs. Moody and Russell. On 
their return from thence, in company with several of their 
elders and parishioners, Mr. Russell introduced the aftair 
of the mortgage, and in his customary plain manner told 
his fellow traveller that the conduct he had adopted to- 
wards Mr. Crooks, was entirely inconsistent with the cle- 
rical character, and would give tlie enemies of the church 
an occasion of speculation and triumph. He advised him 
therefore, by all means, to prosecute his design no farther. 
Mr. Moody defended liis conduct, and avowed his deter- 
mination to persist ia the prosecution of the measures he 
had adopted. The aUcrcation grew hot; and the mutual 
exchange of such epithets as villain, scoundrel, hypocrite, 
&.C. passed in the he;;ring of their astonished parishioners. 
The news of their (|uarrel soon spread over the country, 
and among; other things aave rise to the following sarcas- 
tjc enusiou yi Burns. 

B h 



194 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

1. 

O A'^ ye pious godly flocks, 
Well fed on pasturCvS orthodox, 
Wha^ now will keep you frae^ the fox, 

Or worrying tykes,'' 
Or wha will tent the waifs* and crocks,® 

About the dykes/ 

2. ' 
The twa* best herds in a' the wast,^ 
That e'er gae'° gospel horn a blast, 
These five and twenty summers past, 

O! dool"totell, 
Hae^^ had a bitter black out-cast 

At ween" themseP. 

3. 
O, Moody, man, and wordy" Russell, 
How could you raise so vile a bustle, 
Ye'U see how new-light herds will whistle. 

And think it fine ! 
The L — d's cause ne'er gat" sic a twistle, 

Sin'^^ I hae min'. 

4. 
O, Sirs ! whae'er^' wad hae expeckit, 
Your duty ye wad sae negleckit," 
Ye wha were ne'er by lairds^^ respeckit, 

To wear the plaid. 
But by the brutes themselves* eleckit,^" 

To be their guide. 

15 Got. 

16 Since I've mind. 

17 Whoever would have 
expected. 

18 So neglected. 

6 Old ewes past bear- 13 Between themselves. 19 Superiors respected, 
ing. 14 Worthy. 20 Elected. 

7 Stone fences. 

* They were the choice of their congregations, in contradistinction to those 
who are installed without the consent or against the will of the people, by the 
patrons of the Kirks. 



1 All. 


8 Two. 


2 Who. 


9 West. 


.3 From. 


10 Gave. 


4 Dogs. 


11 Mournful. 


5 Strayed sheep. 


12 Have. 



ROBERT BURNS. 195 

5. 
What flock w? Moody's flock could rank, 
Sae hale and hearty every shank, 
Nae' poison'd soor^ Arminian stank f 

He let them taste, 
Frae'' Calvin's well, ay* clear they drank, 

O' sic*^ a feast ! 

6. 
The fummart,' wil'-cat,* brock and tod, 
Weel kend^ his voice thro' a' the wood, 
He smell'd their ilka^° hole and road, 

Baith" out and in. 
And weel he lik'd to shed their bluid,^^ 

And sell their skin. 

7. 
What herd like Russell tell'd^^ his tale. 
His voice was heard thro' muir^'' and dale. 
He kend the L — d's sheep ilka tail. 

O'er a' the height, 
And saw gin" they were sick or hale, 

At the first sight. 

8. 
He fine a mangy ^® sheep could scrub. 
Or nobly fling the gospel club, 
And new-light herds could nicely drub, 

Or pay their skin, 
Could shake them o'er the burning dub," 

Or heave them in. 

9. 
Sic twa, O ! do I live to see't. 
Sic famous twa should disagree't,^^ 

1 No. 

2 Sour. 

3 Pool. 

4 From. 

5 Always. 
G Such. 
7 Pole-cat. 



8 Wild cat, badger 


13 Told. 


and fox. 


14 Moor. 


9 Well knew. 


15 If. 


10 Every. 


16 Scabbed. 


U Both. 


17 Uke. 


12 Ulood. 


18 Disagree. 



196 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

And names, like villain, hypocrite, 
Ilk^ ither gi'en, 

While new-light herds vvi' laughin' spite, 
Say neither's liein'.^ 

iO. 
A' ye wha tent^ the gospel fauld,^ 
There's Duncan* deep, and Peebles, shaul,' 
But chiefly thou, aposde Auld, 

We trust in thee, 
That thou wilt work them, hot and cauld,*^ 

Till they agree. 

11. 

Consider, Sirs, how we're beset, 
There's scarce a new herd that we get, 
But comes frae^ 'mang that cursed set, 

I winna^ name, 
I hope frae heav'n to see them yet 

In fiery flame. 

12. 

Dalrymple has been lang^ our fae^^^ 
M'Gill has wraught us meikle wae," 
And that curs'd rascal ca'd'^ iM<Quae,t 

And baith the Shaws, 
That aft^^ hae made us black and blae,^'* 

Wi' vengefu' paws. 

13. 

Auld Wodrow, lang has hatch'd mischief. 
We thought ay" death wad bring relief, 
^But he has gotten to our grief, 

Ane to succeed him, 
A chield*" wha'll soundly buft' our beef; 

I meikle dread him. 



I Each other 


given. 


7 From among. 


12 Call'd. 


2 Lying. 




8 Will not name. 


13 Ott, 


3 Tend. 




9 ]jong. 


14 Blue. 


4 Fold. 




10 Foe. 


15 Siill. 


5 Shallow. 




11 M;ich woe. 


16 Fellow who will, 


6 Cold. 









* The Rev. Mr. Duncan, of Dundonald. 
t The Rev. Dr. M'Quae, of St. Quivox. 



ROBERT BURNS. 197 

14. 
And monie a' ane that I could tell, 
Wha fain would openly rebel, 
Forby^ turn-coats amang^ oursel, 

Th ere' S in i th for ane , 
I doubt he's but a grey nick quill, 

'And that ye'll fin'.' 

15. 

O ! a' ye flocks, o'er a' the hills, 

By mosses, meadows, moors, and fells," 

Come join your counsel and your skills, 

To cow* the lairds,^ 
And get the brutes the power themsells," 

To choose their herds. 

16. 
Then Orthodoxy yet may prance, 
And learning in a woody^ dance, 
And that fell cur ca'd Common Sense, 

That bites sae sair. 
Be banish'd o'er the sea to France, 

Let him bark there. 

17. 
Then Shaw's and Dairy mple's eloquence, 
M'Gill's close nervous excellence, 
M'Quae's pathetic manly sense, 

And sruid M'Math, 
Wi' Smith wha thro' the heart can glance. 
■ • May a' pack^ aff. 

1 Besides. on the side or top of 7 Tliemsehes. 

2 Among ourselves. a hill. 8 Halter. 

3 Find. 5 Terrify. 9 All be off. 

4 A field i)retty level 6 Freeholders. 

[The list of clerciyiTien given here by Burns, and mentioned with approb.i- 
tlon, were, with the exception of Moody and Russell, famous, or rather infa- 
mous, for the cold formality of their i loquence, the laxn^ss of their principles, 
and of their mauners, and thtir sermons, formed to please the squeamish sto- 
machs of the wealthy part of their congregations, who seldom love to hear the 
voice ofieproof, or the uplifted hand which draws aside the vail, and discovers 
to the vi.tary of pleasurr, the iinvplcorne and alarming n.-alities of an eternal 
scene.] 



198 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 



ON THE LATE CAPTAIN GROSE'S 

PEREGRINATIONS THRO' SCOTLAND, 

Collecting the Antiquities of that kingdom. 
1. 

HEAR, Land' o' Gakes, and brither'' Scots, 
Frae^ Maidenkirk" to Johnny Groats/ 
If there's a hole in a'^ your coats, 

I rede^ you tent^ it ; 
A chiel's^ amang you, takin'" notes, 

And, faith I he'll prent^^ it. 

2. 
If in your bounds ye chance to light 
Upon a fine, fat, fodgel^^ wight, 
O'^^ stature short, but genius bright. 

That's he, mark weeP" — 
An wow !" he has an unco'^ slight 

O''^ cauk and keel. 

3. 
3y some auld,^^ houlet-haunted biggin,* 
Or kirk^^ deserted by its riggin',^" 
It's ten to ane^^ ye'll find him snug in, 

Some eldritch^^ part, 
Wi' deils,^^ they say, L — d safe's ! colleaguin'" 
At some black art. — 

1 Caledonia. 9 Man is among. 18 Old owl-haunted 

2 Brother. 10 Taking. building. 

3 Prom. n Print. 19 Church. 

4 Southernmost point 12 Plump. 20 Root", 
of Scotland. 13 Of. 21 Ont-. 

5 Northernmost point 14 Well. 22 Frightful, 
of Scotland. 15 And O! 23 With devils. 

fi All. 16 Wonderful. / 24 Colleaguing 

7 Counsel. 17 Of drawing pcrspec- 

8 Take heed. tive views. 

" Vide his Antiquities of ScotlanS. 



ROBERT BURNS. 



ti 



' 4. 
Ilk ghaist^ that haunts auld ha' or^ chamer^ 
Ye gypsy- gang, that deal in glamor,' 
And you deep-read in hell's black granimer. 
Warlocks'* and witches ; 
Ye'll quake at his conjurin'^ hammer, 

Ye midnight b es. 

It's tauld^ he was a sodger^ bred, 
An ane vvad^ rather fa'n^ than fled ; 
But now he's quat^" the spurtle-blade," 

An dogskin'^ wallet, 
An ta'en the Antiquarian trade ^ 

I think they call it. 

6. 

He has a fouth^^ o' auld nick-nackets,^* 
Rusty airn^^ caps an' jingling jackets,* 
Wad haud^^ the Lothians three in tackets, 

A towmond gude, ^ 
And parritch pats,^^ an' auld saut-backets,^* 

Before the flood. 

7. 
O'^^ Eve's first fire he has ae cinder ; 
Auld Tubal-Cain's fire-shooP° and fender : 
That which distinguished the gender 
O' Balaam's ass ; 
A broom-stick o' the witch o' Endor, 

Weel shod wi' brass. 

1 Each ghost. 9 Fallen. three districts of the 

2 Hall or chambLC. 10 Quit. county of Lothian, in 

3 Inchantmenl. 11 Sword. tacks a twelve month 

4 Wizzards. 1'^ Knapsack. good. 

.'> Conjuring. 13 Abundance. 17 Pottage pots, 

f' Told. 14 Relics ot antiquity. 18 Salt-boxes. 

7 Soldier. 15 Iron. 19 Of. 

8 Would. 16 Would supply the 20 Fire shovel. 

• Vide his Tre.itise on Ancient Armour and Weapons. 



200 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

8. 
Forbye,^ he'll shape you afF^ t'u' ,^leg, 
The cut o' Adam's philibej^,^ 
The knife that nicket* Abel's crais^* 

He'll prove you fully, 
It was a fauldin'^ joctelej^, 

Or lang^ kail-gully. 

9. 
But wad ye see him in his glee, 
For meikle^ glee and fun has he, 
Then set him down, and twa^ or three 

Gude fellows wi' him ; 
And j&or^, port ! shine thou a wee,^° 

And then ye'll see him ! 

10. 
Now, by the power's o' verse and prose ! 
Thou art a dainty'^ chiel, O Grose ! 
Whae'er^^ o' thee shall ill suppose, 

They sair^^ misca' thee, 
Fd tak^^ the rascal by the nose, 

Wad say, shame fa' thee. 

1 Besides. 5 Throat. 10 Little. 

2 Off full ready. 6 Folding jack knife. 1 1 PleasMiit fellow. 

3 A short i>etticoat, 7 Long cabbage knife. 12 AVhoi-vtr. 
such as that worn by 8 Much. 13 Sonly mistake. 
Scotch Highlandmeo. 9 Two. 14 Tnkt. 

4 Cut. 



EXTEMPORE VERSES, 

4 

ON DINING WITH LORD DAER. 

The following account of this imperfect poem is from the pen 
of the late celebrated Dugald Stewart, Professor of Moral 
Philosophy in the University of Edinburgh. 

" The fiisttime I saw Bui'ns was on the 23d of October, 1786, 
when he dined at my house in Ayrshire, together with our 



ROBERT BURNS. 201 

cominpn friend, Mr. John Mackenzie, Surgeon, in Mauch- 
line, to whom I am indebted for tbe pleasure of his ac- 
quaintance. I am enabled to mention the date particu- 
larly, by some verses which Burns wrote after he returned 
home, and in which the day of our meeting is recorded. 
My excellent and much lamented friend, the late Basil, 
Lord Daer, happened to arrive at Catrine the same day, 
and by the kindness and frankness of his manners, left an 
impression on the mind of the poet, which never was ef- 
faced. The verses I allude to are among the most im- 
perfect of his pieces ; but a few stanzas may perhaps be 
an object of curiosity, both on account of the character to 
which they relate, and of the light which they throw on 
the situation and feelings of the writer, before his name 
was known to the public." 
Lord Daer was remarkable for the unaffected simplicity of 
his appearance, the sweetness of his countenance and man- 
ners, and the unsuspecting benevolence of his heart. 



Mossgieli October, 9.5th. 

1. 
THIS wot all ye whom it coneerns, 
I, rhymer Robin, alias Burns, 

October twenty-third, 
A ne'er-to-be-fora^otten day ! — 
Sae^ far I sprachFd^ up the brae,'^ 

I dinner'd wi'^ a Lord. 

2. 
Fve been at drucken^ writers' feasts ; 
Nay, been bitch-fou^ 'man^j' godly priests; 

(Wi' reverence be it spoken !) 
I've even join'd the honour'd jorum, ^ 
When mighty Squireships o'^ the quorum, 

Their hydra drouth did sloken.^*' 



1 So. 


.^ Drunken. 


8 Club. 


2 Clambered. 


T) Drunk. 


9 or. 


3 The side of a hill. 


7 Among. 


10 Allav 


4 With. 







r c 



302 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

3. 
But \vV a Lord ! — stand out my shin ! 
A Lord — a Peer — an Earl's Son, 

Up higher yet, my bonnet ! 
An' such a Lord — lang^ Scotch ells twa ;^ 
Our Peerage he looks o'er them a',' 

As I look o'er my sonnet. 

4. 

But, O ! for Hogarth's magic povv'r, 
To shew Sir Bardie's vvillyart^ giowr, 

An' how he star'd an' stammer'd ! 
When goavanas* he'd been led wi' branks,® 
An' stumpan^ on his ploughman shanks, 

He in the parlour hammer'd. 

5. 
To meet good Stuart little pain is, 
Or Scotia's sacred Demosthenes, 

'I'hinks I, they are but men ! 
Bur Burns, my Lord— Guid« G— d ! I doited !' 
My knees on ane^" anither knoited, 

As faultering I gaed^^ ben ! 

6. 

I sidling shelter'd in a neuk^^ 
An'^^ at his Lordship stavv" a leuk. 

Like some portentous omen ; 
Except GOOD sense, and social glee, 
An' (what surpris'd me) modesty, 

I marked nought uncommon. 

7. 
I watch'd The symptoms o' the great. 
The GENTLE pride, the lordly state, 
The arrogant assuming ; 

1 Long. 

2 Two. 

3 All. 

4 Bewildered stare. 

5 Walking stupidly. 



6 Bri<lle. (See Glos- 


10 One another knocked. 


sai V.) 


11 Went in. 


7 Sfamping. 


12 Corner. 


8 Good. 


13 And. 


9 Was confused. 


14 Stole a look. 



ROBERT BURNS. sbs 

The fient^ a pride, nae^ pride had he, 
Nor sauce, nor state, that I could see, 
Mair^ than an honest ploughman. 

8. 
Then from his Lordship I shall learn, 
Henceforth to meet with unconcern. 

One rank as well's another : 
Nae honest, worthy man need care. 
To meet wi' noble, youthfu'** Daer, 

For he but meets a Bro ther. 

Copy of a Letter to Dr. M'-Kenzie. 

Deah Siu, 

I NEVER Spent an afternoon .-tmoi^g great folks with half that pleasure as 
■"'lien iu company with you. I had the honour <jf paying my devoirs to that 
plain, honest, worthy man, the Professor. I would be delighted to see him 
perform acts of kindntss and friendship, thougli I were not the object, he does 
it with such a grace. — I think his char;icttr, dividi d into ten parts, stands thus 
— four parts Socrates — four ()arts Nathaniel — and two parts Shakespeare's 
Brutus. 

The foregoing verses were really extempore, but a little corrected since. 
They may entertain you a little, with the help of that partiality with which you 
are so good as favour the performances of, 
Dear Sir, 

Your very humble servant, 
rVednesdmj worning. ROBERT BURNS. 

1 Fiend. 3 More. 

2 No. 4 Youthful. 



HOLY WILLTE'S PRAYER. 

Holy Willie's Prayer was founded on the following incident 
Mr. Gavin Hamilton, who acted as town clerk of Mauch- 
line, was well known for his kindness to the poor. It hap- 
pened one Sunday morning, that a poor labouring man be- 
longing to the same parish, asked him for a shiUing, which, 
he said, he wanted for the purpose of purchasing bread for 
his family ; but Mr. Hamilton knowing him to be addict- 
ed to drinking, and regardless of the comfort of his wife 
and children, refused him the shilling. The man conti- 
nuing to be importunate, Mr. H. in order to get rid of him. 



:04 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

bade him jestingly go and dig potatoes in his field, and 
at night he would give him a shilling. As it was Sunday, 
this was equivalent to a determined refusal, for there, in 
a Scottish country town, the Sabbath is still a day of rest, 
and that in a sense, which is scarcely known in any other 
nation. However this may be, the people when going to 
church, were astonished to find the labourer at work, sure 
enough among the Clerk's potatoes. While, scandalized 
at his conduct, they were indignantly driving tlie fel- 
low from the field, he telling them, that he was at work 
by Mr. Hamilton's orders. It was therefore commonly 
reported that this really had been the case. A short time 
afterwards, Mr. H. wished to have his child baptized, but 
on account of the foregoing incident, the ordinance was 
refused, unless he would make a public acknowledgment 
of his fault, and his sori-ow for it, before the congregation. 
Mr. H. appealed from this decision of the session to the 
presbytery. Mr. H. employed Mr. R. Aiken, Attorne}^ 
Ayre, to plead his cause before that body, and to the great 
mortification of some of the Mauchline session, but par- 
ticularly of Holy Willie, he was cleared of all intentional 
offence. 
Holy TVillie was a William Fisher, a ruling Elder. He was 
a maltster by business, and as he sold his malt to alehouses 
and tavern-keepers, who made their own liquor, when he 
called round for his money, it was a mattor of course that 
he should sometimes drink with his customers. By this 
means, he is said, sometimes to have been surprised into a 
glass too much, and when this was the case, he was sup- 
posed to be somewhat amorously inclined. It is a piece 
of satire, more exquisitely severe than any which Burns af- 
terwards wrote. Something, however, is to be allowed to 
the nature of the subject, and something to the education 
of the poet, and if, from veneration to the names of Swift 
and Dryden, we tolerate the grossness of the one and the 
indelicacy of the other, the respect due to that of Burns, 
may surely claim indulgence for a few light strokes of 
broad humour. 



1. 
O THOU, wha^ in the heavens dost duel], 
Wha, as it pleases best thysel',- 

I Who. 2 Thvseir. 



ROBERT BURNS. 285 

Sends ane^ to heaven and ten to hell, 

A' 2 for thy glory, 
And no for ony^ guid or ill 

They've done afore'* thee 1 

2. 
I bless and praise thy matchless might, 
Whan* thousands thou has left in night, 
That I am here afore thy sight, 

For gifts an" grace, 
A burnin' an' a shinin' light, 

To a' this place. 

3. 
What was I, or my generation, 
That I should get such exaltation, 
I vvha deserve sic^ just damnation, 

For broken laws, 
Five thousand years 'fore my creation. 

Thro' Adam's caused 

4. 

When frae* my mither's' womb I fell, 
Thou might hae^° plunged me in hell, 
To gnash my gums, to weep and wail, 

In burnin' lake, 
Whar" d — n-d devils roar and yell, 

Chain'd to a stake. 

5. 
Yet I am here a chosen sample. 
To show thy grace is great an' ample : 
I'm here a pillar in thy temple. 

Strong as a rock, 
A guide, a buckler, an' example. 

To a' thv flock. 



1 One. 5 When. 9 Mothei- 

13 All. 6 And. 10 Have. 

3 Any good 7 Such. 11 Where, 

4 Before. S From 



206 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

6. 

O L — d thou kens what zeal I bear, 
When drinkers drink, and swearers swear, 
And singing here, and dancing there, 

Wi' great and sma' ; 
For I am keepit by thy fear. 

Free from them a\ 

7. 
But yet, O L — d ! confess I must, 
At times Fm fash'd^ vvi' fleshly lust, 
An' sometimes too, wi' vvarldly^ trust 

Vile self gets in ; 
But thou remembers we are dust, 

Defil'd in sin. 

8. 

L — d ! yestreen,^ thou kens,* wi' Meg, 
Thy pardon I sincerely beg. 

May it ne'er be a livin' plague, 

To my dishonour, 

An' FU ne'er lift a lawless 1-g 

Again upon her. 

9. 

Besides, I farther maun* allow, 
Wi' Lizie's lass, three times I trow : 
But, L — d that Friday 1 was fou',« 

When I came near her, 
Or else, thou kens, thy servant true 

Wad^ ne'er hae steer'd her. 

10. 
Maybe thou lets ik\\s jieshly thorn^ 
Beset thy servant e'en and morn. 
Lest he owre* high and proud shou'd turn, 
'Cause he's sae gifted ; 

1 Troubled with. 

2 Worldly. 

3 Last night. 



4 Knows. 


7 Would. 


5 Must. 


8 Over. 


6 Drunk. 





ROBERT BURNS. 20r 

If sae,^ thy han'^ maun e'en be borne, 
Until thou hft it. 

11. 

L — d bless thy chosen in this place, 

For here thou hast a chosen race ; 

But G — d confound their stubborn face, 

And blast their name, 
Wha bring thy elders to disgrace, 

And public shame. 

12. 
L — d mind Gavin Hamilton's deserts, 
He drinks, an' swears, an' plays at cartes,^ 
Yet has sae mony^ takin' arts, 

Wi' grit^ an' sma', 
Frae G — d's ane priest the people's hearts 

He steals avva'.'' 

13. 

An' vvhan^ we chasten'd him therefore. 
Thou kens how he bred sic a splore,* 
As set the warld in a roar 

O' laughin' at us ; 
Curse thou his basket and his store, 

KaiP an' potatoes. 

14. 

L — d hear my earnest cry and pray'r, 

Against that presbyt'ry o' Ayr ; 

Thy strong right hand, L — d make it bare, 

Upo' their heads, 
L — d weigh it down, and dinna^° spare, 

For their misdeeds. 

15. 
O L — d myG-d, that glib-tongu'd Aiken, 
My very heart an' sauH^ are quakin', 

1 So. 5 Great and small. 9 Cabbage. 

2 Hand. 6 Away. 10 Do not. 

3 Cards. 7 When. 11 Soul. 

4 Many; 8 Frolic. 



2^8 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

To think how we stood sweatin', shakin', 
An' pi — d wi' dread, 

While he wi' hingin' lips and snakin', 
Held up his head. 

16. 

L — d in the day of vengeance try him. 
L — d visit them wha did employ him, 
And pass not in thy mercy by 'em, 

Nor hear their pray'r ; 
But for thy people's sake destroy 'em 

And dinna spare. 

17. 
But L — d remember me and mine, 

Wi' mercies temp'ral and divine. 
That I for gear^ and grace may shine, 

Excell'd by nane f 
An* a' the glory shall be thine, 

Amen, Amen. 

1 .Wealth. None. 



ADDRESS TO THE TOOTH- AC HE. 

This was written at a time, when (as the author expresses 
it,) he felt the delightful sensations of an omnipotent 
tooth-ache, so as to engross all the " inner man," and to 
put it out of his " power even to write nonsense." It is 
uncommonly " ill natured, and in unison" with his feel- 
ings at the moment, when " fifty troops of infernal spirits," 
were driving post from ear to ear, along " his jaw- 
bones." 



ROBERT BURNS. 209 

1. 

MY curse upon thy venoinM stang^ 
That shoots my tortur'd gums alang f 
And through my lugs^ gies^ mony a twang, 

Wi' gnawing vengeance ; 
Tearing my nerves wi' bitter pang, 

Like racking engines ! 

2. 
When fevers burn, or ague freezes, 
Rheumatics gnaw, or choHc squeezes ; 
Our neighbour's sympathy may ease us, 

Wi" pitying moan ; 
But thee — thou hell o'^ a' diseases, 

Ay mocks our groan ! 

3. 
Adown my beard the slavers trickle ! 
I throw the wee' stools o'er the meikle,* 
As round the fire the giglets keckle,' 

To see me loup ;" 
While raving mad, I wish a heckle^^ 

Were in their doup/^ 

4. 

O' a' the numerous human dools,^^ 

111 har'stSj" daft^* bargains, cutty stools,'^^ 

Or worthy friends rak'd i' the mools," 

Sad sight to see ! 
The tricks o' knaves, or fash^^ o' fools, 

Thou bear'st the gree." 

5. 

W^here'er that place be priests ca'^° hell, 
Whence a' the tones o' misery yell, 

1 Sting. 8 LRige. 15 Foolish. 

2 Along. 9 Plavful girls laugh. 16 Stools of repentance. 
.3 Eiiis. 10 J.imp. 17 EMith. 

4 Gives. 11 HHcktiag comb. 18 Trouble. 

3 With. 1'2 A— e. 19 Su;)erioritv. 

6 Of all. l.S Evils. 20 nail. 

7 Little. U Harvests. 

D d 



:i(> THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

And ranked plagues their numbers tell, 
In dreadfu' raw/ 

Thou, TOOTH-ACHE, surcly bear'st the be)! 
Amang^ them a' ! 

6. 
O thou grim mischief-making chiel,^ 
That gars'* the notes of f/wcorr/ squeel, 
Till daft mankind aft* dance a reel 

In gore a shoe-thick ; — 
Gie a' the faes*^ o' Scotland's weal 

A towmond's^ Tooth- Ache. 



1 Dreadful row. 


4 Makes. 


G P'oes. 


2 Among. 


5 Oft. 


7 Twelvemonth, 


3 Fellow. 







THE 

DEATH AND DYING WORDS 



POOR MAILIE, 

THE AUTHOR'S ONLY PET YOWE.' 

An' unco2 mournfu'Tale. 

Tills is one of Burns's earlier productions, being composed 
previous to the year 1784. We have the occasion of it in 
the words of Gilbert, his brother. " The circumstances 
of the poor sheep v*^ere pretty much as he had described 
them. He had, partly by way of frolic, bought a ewe and 
two lambs from a neighbour, and she was tethered in a 
field adjoining the house at Lochlea. He and I were going 
out with our teams for the plough, and our two younger 
brothers to drive for us, at mid-day ; when Hugh Wilson, 
an odd-looking, awkward boy, clad in coarse homespun 
woollen, came to us with much anxiety in his face, with 

1 Ewe. 2 Very. 



ROBERT BURNS. 211 

the information, that the ewe had entangled herself in the 
tether, and was lying in the ditch. Robert was much tick- 
led with Hughoc's aj'pearance and gestures on the occa- 
sion. Poor Mailie was set to rights, and when we return- 
ed from the plough in the evening, he repeated to me her 
Death and Dying Words, pretty much in the way they 
now stand." 



AS Mailie^ and her lambs thegither/ 
Were ae^ day nibbling on the tether, 
Upon her cloot^ she coosf* a hitch, 
An' owre* she warsPd^ in the ditch : 
There, groaning, dying, she did lie. 
When Hughoc"^ he cam doytin''' by. 

Wi' glowrin'* e'en, and lifted han's,^ 
Poor Hughoc like a statue Stan's ;^° 
He saw her days were near-hand ended. 
But waes^^ my heart ! he could na^^ mend it 1 
He gaped wide, but naething^^ spak ! 
At length poor Mailie silence brak.'* 

* O thou, whase" lamentable face 
Appears to mourn my woefu' case ! 
My dying words attentive hear. 
An' bear them to my master dear. 

Tell him, if e'er again he keep 
As muckle gear^^ as buy a sheep, 
O, bid him never tie them mair^' 
Wi' wicked strings o' hemp or hair ! 
But ca' them out to park or hill. 
An' let them wander at their will ; 
So may his flock increase, an' grow 
To scores o' lambs, an' packs o' woo !^^ 

13 Nothing spoke 

14 Broke. 

15 Whose. 

16 Much money. 

17 More. 

18 Wool. 

* A neibor herd callan. 



1 Together. 


7 C:ime careless. 


'Z One. 


8 Siuiing eyes. 


3 Hoof. 


9 Hands. 


4 Did cast. 


10 Stands. 


5 Over. 


11 Woe is. 


C Tumbkd. 


12 Not. 



•212 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

* Tell him, he was a master kin',^ 
An' ay was guid^ to me and mine ; 
An' now my dying charge I gie^ him, 
My helpless lambs 1 trust them wi' him. 

' O, bid him save their harmless lives, 
Frae* dogs, an' tods,* an' butchers' knives \ 
But gie them guid cow milk their fill, 
Till they be fit to fend^ themsel ; 
An' tent' them duly, e'en an' morn, 
Wi' teats^ o' hay, an' rips' o' corn.'" 

* An' may they never learn the gaets" 
Of ither'^ vile, wanrestfu'" pets ! 

To slink thro' slaps," an' reave'* an' steal, 

At stacks o' pease, or stocks o' kaii.'^ 

So may they, like their great forbears,^' 

For monie*^ a year come thro' the sheers : 

So wives will gie them bits o' bread. 

An' bairns^^ greet for them when they're dead. 

* My poor toopIamb,^° my son an' heir, 
O, bid him breed him up wi' care ! 

An' if he live to be a beast. 
To pit^' some havins'^ in his breast ! 
An' warn him, what I winna^^ name. 
To stay content wi' yowes at hame ;^'* 
An' no to rin^* an' wear his cloots,^*^ 
Like ither menseless,-' graceless, brutes. 

* An' niest^ my ycrwie, silly thing, 
Gude keep thee frae a tether string ! 
O, may thou ne'er forgather^^ up 
Wi' ony^° blastit, moorland toop^^ ; 



1 Kind. 

2 Good, 

3 Give. 

4 From. 

5 Foxes. 

6 Provide for them- 
selves. 

7 Tend. 

% Sniall quantities. 
9 Handfuls. 
10 Oats. 



11 Ways. 


22 Manners. 


12 Other. 


23 Will nof. 


13 Restless. 


24 Home. 


14 Breaches in fences. 


25 Run. 


15 Rove. 


26 Hoofs. 


16 Cabbage. 


27 Indiscreet. 


17 Ancesters. 


28 Next. 


18 Many. 


29 Co-habit. 


19 Children weep. 


30 Ar ' blasted, 


20 Young ram. 


31 B n. 


21 Put. 





ROBERT BURNS. 218 

But ay keep mind to moop^ an' mell 
Wi' sheep o" credit like ihysel I' 

* And now, my bairns, wi^ my last breath, 
I lea'e my blessin' wi' you bailh :" 
An' when you think upo'* your mither,* 
Mind to be kin' to ane^ anither. 

' Now, honest Hiighoc^ dinna* fail 
To tell my master a' my tale ; 
An' bid him burn this cursed tether, 
An', for thy pains, thou'se get my blether.' 

This said, poor Mailie turn'd her head. 
And closed her een^° amang the dead. 



I Nibble and mix. 


5 Upon. 


8 Do rot. 


2 Of. 


6 Mother. 


9 Bladder. 


3 Thyself. 


7 Each other. 


10 Eyes among. 


4 Both. 







POOR MAILIE'S ELEGY. 

1. 

LAMENT in rhyme, lament in prose, 
Wi' saut^ tears trickling down your nose; 
Our bardie's fate is at a close, 

Past a'^ remead ; 
The last sad cape-stane^ of his woes ; 

Poor Mailie^ s dead ! 

2. 

It's no^ the loss o' warl's* gear, 
That could sae^ bitter draw the tear, 
Or mak' our bardie, dowie,^ wear 

The mourning weed : 
He's lost a friend and neebor^ dear. 

In Mailie dead. 

1 Salt. 4 Not. 7 Make. 

2 All remedy, 5 Worldly riches. 8 Droopingly. 
S Cap-stone. 6 So, 9 Neighbour, 



214 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

3. 
Thro' a'^ the toun^ she trotted by him ; 
A lang^ half-mile she could descry him ; 
Wi' kindly bleat when she did spy him, 

She ran wi' speed : 
A friend mair" faithfu' ne'er cam* nigh him, 
Than Mailie dead. 

4, 
I wat* she was a sheep o' sense, 
An' could behave hersel'"' wi' mense :' 
111 say't, she never brak' a fence, 

Thro' thievish greed. 
Our bardie, lanely,^" keeps the spence" 
Sin'^^ Mailieh dead. 

5. 
Or, if he wanders up the howe," 
Her living image in her yowe^ 
Comes bleating to him, owre^^ the knowe. 

For bits o' bread ; 
An' down the briny pearls rowe^* 

For Mailie dead. 

6. 
*She was nae get^^ o' moorland tips,*' 
Wi' tawted*^ ket an' hairy hips : 
For her forbears^^ were brought in ships 

Frae^° yont the Tweed; 
A bonnier ^ee^A^^ ne'er cross'd the clips^^ 
Than Mailie dead. 



I AH. 


9 Broke. 


IG Lamb. 


a Town. 


10 Lnneiy. 


17 Rams. 


3 Long. 


11 Chamber. 


18 Matted fleece, 


4 More. 


12 Since. 


19 Ancestors. 


5 Came. 


13 Plain. 


20 Fronj beyond 


6 Wot. 


I'i Over the hill. 


21 Fleece. 


7 Htrself. 


15 Roll. 


22 Shears, 


8 Discretion. 







* This stanza was, at first, as follows : 

She was nae get o' runted i-ams, 
Wi' woo' like goats, and legs like trams; 
She was the flower o' Fairlee lambs, 

A famous breed ; 
Now, Robin, greetin', chows the hams 
C Mailie dead. 



ROBERT BURNS. 215 

7. 
Wae^ worth the man wha^ first did shape 
That vile, wanchancie' thing — a rape !* 
It makes guid* fellows grin an' gape, 

Wi' chokin' dread ; 
An' Robbt's bonnet wave wi' crape, 
For Mailie dead. 

8. 
O, a' ye bards on bonnie Doon I 
An' wha on Ayr your chanters tune I * 
Come, join the melanchohous croon° 
O' Robbies reed ! 
His heart will never get aboon^ 

His Mailie dead. 



I Woe be to. 


4 Rope. 


6 Continued moan 


'2 Who. 


5 Good. 


7 Above, 


;^ Unlucky. 







VERSES 

JFritten in Friars- Carse Hermitage^ on JVith Side.^- 

THOU whom chance may hither lead, 
Be thou clad in russet weed, 
Be thou deck't in silken stole, 
^Grave these counsels on thy soul. 

* The following variation from the above copy of this poem, is worth pi-e- 
serving. After the line, "Fear not clouds will always lour." Jtprocped- 

thus : 

Happiness is but a name ; 
Make content and ease thy aim. 
Ambition is a meteor- gleam : 
Fame, an idle, restless dream : 
Peace, the tenderest flow'r of spring : 
Pleasures, insects on the wing-. 
Those* that sip the dew alone — 
Make the ImtteriVies thy own ; 
Those that would the bloom devour 
Ciush the locust — save the flower. 

* Pleasures. 



216 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

Life is but a day at most, 
Sprung from night, in darkness lost ; 
Hope not sunshine ev'ry hour, 
Fear not clouds will always lower. 

As Youth and Love, with sprightly dance, 
Beneath thy morning star advance. 
Pleasure with her siren air 
May delude the thoughdess pair ; 
Let Prudence bless Enjoyment's cup, 
Then raptur'd sip, and sip it up. 

As thy day grows warm and high, 
Life's meridian flaming nigh, 
Dost thou spurn the humble vale ? 
Life's proud summits wouldst thou scale ? 
Check thy climbing step, elate, 
Evils lurk in felon wait : 
Dangers, eagle-pinion'd, bold, 
Soar around each cliffy hold, 
While cheerful Peace, with linnet song, 
Chants the lowly dells among. 

As the shades of ev'ning close, 
Beck'ning thee to long repose ; 
As life itself becomes disease. 
Seek the chimney-nook of ease. 
There ruminate with sober thought, 
On all thou'st seen, and heard, and wrought ; 
And teach the sportive younkers round, 
Saws of experience, sage and sound. 

For the future be prepared, 
Guard, wherever thou cansi guard ; 
But, thj utmost duly done, 
Welcome what thou canst not shun. 
Follies past, give thou to air. 
Make their consequence thy care : 
Keep the name of man in mind 
And dishonour not thy kind. 
Reverence, with lowly heart. 
Him whose wondrous work thou art ; 
Keep his goodness still in view, 
Thy trust and thy example too. 



ROBERT BURNS. 217 



Say, man's true, genuine estimate, 
The grand criterion of his fate, 
Is not, art thou high or low ? 
Did thy fortune ebb or flow ? 
Did many talents gild thy span ? 
Or frugal nature grudge thee one ? 
Wert thou cottager or king? 
Prince or peasant ? no such thing. 
Tell them, and press it on their mind, 
As thou thyself must shortly find, 
The smile or frown of awful Heav'n, 
To Virtue or to Vice is giv'n. 
Say, to be just, and kind, and wise, 
There solid Self-enjoyment lies ; 
That foolish, selfish, faithless ways, 
Lead to be wretched, vile and base. 

Thus resign'd and quiet, creep 
To the bed of lasting sleep ; 
Sleep, whence thou shalt ne'er awake, 
Night, where dawn shall never break, 
'Till Future Life, future no more. 
To light and joy the good restore, 
To light and joy unknown before, 

Stranger, ^o, ! Heav'n be thy guide ! 
Quoth the Beadsman of Nith-side. 



E e 



218 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 



THE HUMBLE PETITION 

/ TO 

BRUAR WATER* 

TO THE NOBLE DUKE OF ATHOLE. 

1. 

MY Lord, I know your noble ear 

Woe ne'er assails in vain ; 
Embolden'd thus, I'll beg you'll hear 

Your humble slave complain, 
How saucy Phoebus' scorching beams, 

In flaming summer-pride, 
Dry- withering, waste my foamy streams, 

And drink my crystal tide. 

2. 
The lightly-jumping glowrin^ trouts, 

That thro' my waters play. 
If, in their random, wanton spouts, 

They near the margin stray ; 
If, hapless chance ! they linger lang,' 

I'm scorching up so shallow. 
They're left the whitening stanes^ amang. 

In gasping death to wallow. 

3. 
Last day I grat"* wi' spite and teen^ 

As Poet Burns came by. 
That, to a bard I should be seen 

Wi' half ray channel dry : 
A panegyric rhyme, I ween. 

Even as I was he shor'd^ me ; 

1 StHririg. 3 Stones among. 5 Vexation. 

2 Long. 4. Wept with. 6 OfFered. 

• Briiar Falls, in Athole, are exceedingly picturesque and beautiful but 
their effect is much impaired by the Avant of trees and shrubs. 



ROBERT BURNS. 2t9 

But had I in my glory been, 
He, kneeling, wad' adorM me. 

4. 
Here, foaming down the shelvy rocks, 

In twisting strength I rin f 
There, high my boiling torrent smokes, 

Wild-roaring o'er a linn :^ 
Enjoying large each spring and well 

As nature gave them me, 
I am, altho' I say't myseP,"* 

Worth gaun' a mile to see. 

5. 

Would then my noble master please 

To grant my highest wishes, 
He'll shade my banks wi' tow'ring trees, 

And bonnie spreading bushes ; 
Delighted doubly then, my Lord, 

You'll wander on my banks, 
And listen mony^ a grateful bird 

Return you tuneful thanks. 

6. 

The sober laverock,^ warbling wild, 

Shall to the skies aspire ; 
The gowdspink,^ music's gayest child, 

Shall sweetly join the choir : 
The blackbird strong, the lintwhite^ clear, 

The mavis^° mild and mellow ; 
The robin pensive autumn cheer, 

In all her locks of yellow : 

7. 
This too, a covert shall ensure, 

To shield them from the storm ; 
And coward maukin" sleep secure, 

Low in her grassy form : 



1 Would have. 


5 Going. 


9 Linnet. 


2 Run. 


6 Many. 


10 Thnisli 


3 Waterfall. 


7 Lurk. 


11 Hare. 


4 Myself. 


8 Golilfincli. 





220 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

Here shall the shepherd make his seat, 
To weave his crown of flow'rs ; 

Or find a sheltering safe retreat, 
From prone descending show'rs. 

8. 
And here, by sweet endearing stealth, 

Shall meet the loving pair, 
Despising worlds with all their wealth 

As empty idle care ; 
The flow'rs shall vie in all their charms 

The hour of heav'n to grace. 
And birks^ extend their fragrant arms 

To screen the dear embrace. 

9. 
Here haply too, at vernal dawn, 

Some musing bard may stray, 
And eye the smoking, dewy lawn. 

And misty mountain, grey ; 
Or, by the reaper's nightly beam, 

Mild-chequering thro' the trees, 
Rave to my darkly dashing stream, 

Hoarse- swelling on the breeze. 

10. 
Let lofty firs, and ashes* cool, 

My lowly banks o'erspread, 
And view, deep-bending in the pool, 

Their shadows' wat'ry bed ! 
Let fragrant birks in woodbines drest, 

My craggy cliffs adorn ; 
And, for the little songster's nest. 

The close embow'riiig thorn. 

IL 

So may old Scotia's darling hope. 

Your little angel band, 
Spring, like their fathers, up to prop 

Their honour'd native land ! 

1 Birch trees. 2 Asli-trees, 



ROBERT BURNS. £21 



So may thro' Albion's farthest ken, 

To social-flowing glasses, 
The grace be — " Athole^s honest men, 

" And Athole's bonnie lasses !" 



ON SEEING A 

WOUNDED HARE LIMP BY ME, 

WHICH A FELLOW HAD JUST SHOT AT. 

Burns mentions the occasion of this little poem, in a lettet 
to Mr. Cunningham of Edinburgh, nephew of Dr. Robert- 
son, the celebrated historian. 

•' One morning lately as I was out pretty early in the fields 
sowing some grass seeds, I heard the burst of a shot from a 
neighbouring plantation, and presently a poor little wound- 
ed hare came crippling by me. You could guess my indig- 
nation at the inhuman fellow who could shoot a hare at this 
season, when they all of them have young ones. Indeed, there 
is something in that business of destroying, for our sport, 
individuals in the animal creation, that do not injure us ma- 
terially, which I could never reconcile to my ideas of vir- 
tue." These sentiments of the Bard do honour to his feel- 
ings, and in agreement with them, the compiler of these 
notes would add, that he can by no means perceive, how the 
wanton destruction of harmless animals, under the pretext 
of recreation, or even of exercise, can be reckoned consis- 
tent with magnanimity of soul, or be separated, either from 
cpwardliness or devilish depravity of heart. 



1. 

INHUMAN man ! curse on thy barb'rous ar.t. 
And blasted be thy murder-aiming eye : 
May never pity sooth thee with a sigh. 

Nor ever pleasure glad thy cruel heart ! 



£22 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

2. 
Go live, poor wanderer of the wood and field, 

The bitter litde that of life remains : 

No more the thickning brakes and verdant plains 
To thee shall home, or food, or pastime yield. 



Seek, mangled wretch, some place of wonted rest, 
No more of rest, but now thy dying bed ! 
The sheltering rushes whistlinoj o*er thy head, 

The cold earth with thy bloody bosom prest. 

4. 
Perhaps a mother's anguish adds its woe ; 

The playful pair crowd fondly by thy side ; 

Poor, helpless nurslings ! who will now provide 
That food, a mother only could bestow ? 

5. 

Oft as by winding Nith, I musing wait 
The sober eve, or hail the cheerful dawn, 
Pll miss thee sporting o'er the dewy lawn. 

And curse the ruffian's aim, and mourn thy hapless 
fate. 



MAN WAS MADE TO MOURN, 



A DIRGE. 



Burns used frequently to remark that he could not well con- 
ceive a more mortifying picture of human life, than a man 
seeking work. In casting about in his mind how this sen- 
timent might be brought forward, this beautiful effusion 
was produced. 



ROBERT BURNS. 22i 

1. 
WHEN chill November's surly blast 

Made fields and forests bare, 
One evening, as I wander'd forth 

Along the banks of Ayr^ 
I spy'd a man, whose aged step 

Seem'd weary, worn with care ; 
His face was furrow'd o'er with years, 

And hoary was his hair. 

2. 
Young stranger, whither wand'rest thou ? 

Began the rev'rend sage ; 
Does thirst of wealth thy step constrain, 

Or youthful pleasure's rage ? 
Or haply, prest witli cares and woes, 

Too soon thou hast began 
To wander forth, wrth me^ to mourn 

The miseries of man ! 

3. 

The sun that overhangs yon moors, 

Oat-spreading far and wide, 
Where hundreds labour to support 

A haughty lordling's pride ; 
I've seen yon weary winter- sun 

Twice forty times return ; 
And ev'ry time has added proofs 

That man was made to mourn. 

4. 

O man ! while in thy early years, 

How prodigal of time ! 
Mispending all thy precious hours ; 

Thy glorious youthful jjrime ! 
Alternate follies take the sway ; 

Licentious passions burn ; 
Which tenfold force gives Nature's laws, 

That man was made to mourn. 



224 thp: poetical works of 

5. 

Look not alone on youthful prime, 

Or manhood's active might ; 
Man then is useful to his kind, 

Supported is his right : 
But see him on the edge of life, 

With cares and sorrows worn, 
Then age and want. Oh ! ill-match'd pair 1 

Show man was made to mourn. 

6. 
A few seem favourites of fate, 

In pleasure's lap carest ; 
Yet, think not all the rich and great 

Are likewise truly blest. 
But, Oh ! what crowds in every land, 

Are wretched and forlorn ; 
Thro' weary life this lesson learn, 

That man was made to mourn. 

7. 

Many and sharp the num'rous ills 

Inwoven with our frame ! 
More pointed still we make ourselves, 

Regret, remorse, and shame ! 
And man, whose heav'n-erected face 

The smiles of love adorn, 
Man's inhumanity to man 

Makes countless thousands mourn. 

8. 
See yonder poor, o'erlabour'd wight, 

So abject, mean, and vile. 
Who begs a brother of the earth 

To give him leave to toil ; 
And see his lordly feliow-wor?ii 

The poor petition spurn. 
Unmindful, tho' a weeping wife 

And helpless offspring mourn. 



ROBERT BURNS. ^ 325 



9. 

If Fm yon haughty lordling's slave — 

By Nature's law designed, 
Why was an independent wish 

Ere planted in my mind? 
If not, why am I subject to 

His cruelty or scorn ? 
Or why has man the will and pow'r 

To make his fellow mourn? 

10. 
Yet, let not this too much, my son, 

Disturb thy youthful breast : 
This partial view of human-kind 

Is surely not the last ! 
The poor, oppressed, honest man, 

Had never, sure been born, 
Had there not been some recompense 

To comfort those that mourn ! 

11. 

O Death ! the poor man's dearest friend, 

The kindest and the best ! 
Welcome the hour my aged limbs 

Are laid with thee at rest ! 
The great, the wealthy, fear thy blow. 

From pomp and pleasure torn : 
But, Oh ! a blest relief to those 

That weary-laden mourn ! 



A WINTER NIGHT. 

This is a beautiful though rather irregular poem. It is one 
of those, in the dark and melancholy tone of which Burns 
exhibits a striking instance of the fervid sensibility which 
inspires the genuine poet ; — and which grasps in its trem- 
bling fibres the destinies of nature and of man. This is 
Ff 



226 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

one of those strains wherein the Bard begins 1)y sounding 
the rural reed of his own na ive vale ; but as the strain 
proceeds, it rises into a region of lofty pathos and ima- 
gery, where the gifted wing of genius alone can soar, and 
where the mighty Shakespeare loved to wander in the hour 
of inspiration. 



Poor naked wretches, wheresoe'er you arc, 
That bide the pelting of this pity less storm ! 
How shall your houseless heads, and unfed sides. 
Your loop'd and window'd raggedness, defend you 
From seasons such as these 

ShAICESI'EAB.E. 

WHEN biting Boreas^ fell and doure,' 
Sharp shivers thro' the leafless bow'r ; 
When Phoebus gies^ a short-liv'd glovv'r,' 

Far south the lift/ 
Dim-dark'ning thro' the flaky shovv'r, 

Or whirling drift. 

Ae* night the storm the steeples rocked, 
Poor labour sweet in sleep was locked, 
While burns,^ wi' snawy^ wreeths up-choked, 

Wild-eddying swirl, 
Or thro' the mining outlet bocked,^ 

Down headlong hurl. 

List'ning, the doors an' winnocks^ rattle, 
I thought me on the ourie^° cattle. 
Or silly sheep, wha" bide this bratde^^ 

O'^' winter war, 
And thro* the drift, deep-lairing,^" sprattle,^"' 

Beneath a scar.'" 

Ilk happing" bird, wee'' helpless thing, 
That, in the merry months o' spring, 

1 Severe. 7 Snowy wreaths. 13 Of. 

2 Gives. ■ 8 Vomited. 14 Sinking. 

3 Stare. 9 And windows. 15 Scramble. 

4 Sky. 10 Shivering. 16 Cliif. 

5 One. 11 Who. 17 Ench hopplas:. 
fi Rivulets. It' Fuiv. 18 Little. 



ROBERT BURNS. 227 

Delighted me to hear thee sing, 

What comes o' thee? 

Whare^ wilt thou cow'r^ thy chittering^ wing, 
An'" close thy e'e ?^ 

Ev'n you on murdering errands toil'd, 
Lone from your savage homes exil'd, 
The blood- stain'd roost, and sheep-cote spoiled, 

M\ heart forgets, 
While pityless the tempest wild 

Sore on you beats. 

Now Phcebe, in her midnight reign, 
Dark-muffl'd view'd the dreary plain ; 
Still crowding thoughts, a pensive train, 

Rose in my soul, 
When on my ear this plaintive strain. 

Slow-solemn, stole — 

* Blow, blow, ye winds, with heavier gust ! 
' And freeze thou bitter- biting frost ! 

* Descend, ye chilly, smothering snows ! 

* Not all your rage, as now, united shows 

* More hard unkindness, unrelenting, 

* Vengeful malice, unrepenting, 

' Than heav^i-illumin'd man on brother man bestows! 

* See stern Oppression's iron grip, 

' Or mad Ambition's gory hand, 
' Sending, like blood-hounds from the slip, 

* Woe, Want, and Murder, o'er a land ! 
' Ev'n in the peaceful rural vale, 

* Truth, weeping, tells the mournful tale, 

' How pamper'd Luxury, Flatt'ry by her side, 

* The parasite empoisoning her ear, 

* With all the servile wretches in the rear, 

* Looks o'er proud property, extended wide ; 

* And eyes the simple, rustic hind, 

1 Where. 3 Trembling. S Eye. 

9 Crouch. 4 And. 



228 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

* Whose toil upholds the glittering show, 

* A creature of another kind, 

* Some coarser substance, unrefined, 

* Plac'd for her lordly use thus far, thus vile, below ! 

' Where, where is Love's fond tender throe, 
' With lordly Honour's lofty brow, 

* The pow'rs you proudly own ? 

' Is there, beneath Love's noble name, 
' Can harbour, dark, the selfish aim, 

' To bless himself alone ! 
' Mark maiden- innocence a prey 

* To love- pretending snares, 

' This boasted Honour turns away, 

* Shunning soft Pity's rising sway, 

' Regardless of the tears, and unavailing pray'rs ! 

* Perhaps, this hour, in Mis'ry's squalid nest, 
< She strains your infant to her joyless breast, 

' And with a mother's fears shrinks at the rocking 
blast ! 

* Oh ye ! who, sunk in beds of down, 

* Feel not a want but what yourselves create, 
' Think, for a moment, on his wretched fate, 

* Whom friends and fortune quite disown : 

* 111- satisfy 'd, keen Nature's clam'rous call, 

' Stretch'd on his straw he lays himself to sleep, 
' While thro' the ragged roof and chinky wall, 
' Chill, o'er his slumbers, piles the dnfty heap ! 

* Think on the dungeon's grim confine, 

* Where guilt and poor misfortune pine ! 
' Guilt, erring man, relenting view ! 

* But shall thy legal rage pursue 

* The wretch already crushed low 

* By cruel Fortune's undeserved blow? 
^ Affliction's sons are brothers in distress ; 

' A brother to relieve, how exquisite the bliss !' 

I heard nae* mair, for Chanticleer 
Shook off the pouthery^ snaw, 

\ No more. 2 Powdery snow. 



ROBERT BURNS. 929 



And hail'd the morning with a cheer, 



A cottage-rousing craw.^ 



But deep this truth impress'd my mind- 

Tliro' all his works abroad, 
The heart benevolent and kind 

The most resembles God. 



1 Crow, 



THE LAMENT, 



OCCASIONED BY THE UNFOllTUNATE ISSUE OF A 

FRIEND'S AMOUR. 

In this poem, Burns has strikingly displayed the picture of 
a mind, under deep impi-essions of real sorrow. It was oc- 
casioned by an affair, which, as he afterwards said, " had 
very nearly given him one or two of the principal qualifi- 
cations, for a place among those who have lost the chart, 
and mistaken the reckoning of rationality." While he was 
in the farm of Mossgiel, near Mauchline, he became ac- 
quainted with Miss Jean Armour, afterwards Mrs. Burns, 
and paid his addresses to her. Having more love than pru- 
dence between them, the consequences of their attachment 
began prematurely to discover itself. In this dilemma, they 
agreed to make a legal acknowledgement of an irregular 
and private marriage ; that he should go to Jamaica and 
push his fortune : and that she should remain with her fa- 
ther till it might please Providence to put the means of 
supporting a family in his power. Mrs. Burns was the great 
favourite of her father. The intimation of a marriage was 
the first suggestion he received of her real situation ; and 
so great was his distress that he fainted away- A husband 
in Jamaica seemed to Jeany's parents, little bettor than 
none. They forbade Burns the company of their daughter, 
or even to cross their threshold. They caused the written 
papers which concerned the marriage to be cancelled, and 
thus rendered the marriage void. Burns offered to stay at 



230 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

home and provide for his wife and family in the best man- 
ner he could bj his daily labours. Even this consolation 
was denied him ; his proposal was rejected with scorn. Miss 
Armour fully sensible of the deep affliction, which her im- 
prudence had brought upon her hitherto indulgent parents, 
passively acquiesced in their measures. The irritated feel- 
ings of the Bard, exaggerated this acquiescence into a 
breach of truth, and gave those feelings vent in the follow- 
ing effusion. 



Alas! how oft does Goodness wound itself! 
And sweet Affection prove the spring of Woe ! 



Hqmk. 



1. 

THOU pale Orb, that silent shines, 
While care-untroubled mortals sleep ! 

Thou seest a wretch, who inly pines, 
And wanders here to wail and weep ! 

With woe I nightly vigils keep, 

Beneath thy wan, unvv arming beam ; 

And mourn in lamentation deep, 
How life and love are all a dream ! 

2. 

1 joyless view thy rays adorn 

The faintly-marked, distant hill ; 
I joyless view thy trembling horn, 

Reflected in the gurgling rill. 
My fondly-fluttering heart, be still ! 

Thou busy pow'r. Remembrance, cease I 
Ah ! must the agonizing thrill 

For ever bar returning Peace ! 

3. 
No idly-feign'd poetic pains, 

My sad, love-lorn lamentings claim ; 
No shepherd's pipe — Arcadian strains ; 

No fabled tortures, quaint and tame ; 
The plighted faith ; the mutual flame ; 

The oft-attested Pow'rs above ; 



ROBERT BURNS. 231 

'rhe promised Father^ s tender name ; 
These were the pledges of my love ! 

4. 

EncircPd in her clasping arms, 

How have the raptur'd moments flown I 
Hovv have I wish'd for fortune's charms, 

For her dear sake, and her's alone ! 
And, must I think it? is she gone, 

My secret heart's exulting boast ? 
And does she heedless hear my groan ? 

And is she ever, ever lost ? 

5. 

Oh ! can she bear so base a heart, 

So lost to Honour, lost to Truth, 
As from the fondest lover part. 

The plighted husband of her youth ? 
Alas ! Life's path may be unsmooth ! 

Her way may lie thro' rough distress! 
Then, who her pangs and pams will soothe, 

Her sorrows share and make them less ? 

6. 

Ye winged hours that o'er us past, 

Enraptur'd more, the more enjoy 'd, 
Your dear remembrance in my breast, , 

My fondly -treasur'd thoughts employ'd. 
That breast, how dreary now, and void, 

For her too scanty once of room ! 
Ev'n ev'ry ray of hope destroy'd. 

And not a wish to gild the gloom I 

7. 

The morn that warns th' approaching daj% 

Awakes me up to toil and woe : 
I see the hours, in long array, 

That I must suffer, lingering, slow. 



232 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

Full many a pang, and many a throe, 

Keen recollection's direful train, 
Must wring my soul, ere Phoebus, low, 

Shall kiss the distant, western main. 

8. 

And when my nightly. couch I try. 

Sore harassed out, with care and grief, 
My toil-beat nerves, and tear-worn eye, 

Keep watching with the nightly thief: 
Or if I slumber, fancy, chief. 

Reigns, haggard-wild, in sore affright; 
Ev'n day, all-bitter, brings relief, 

From such a horror-breathing night. 

9. 

O ! thou bright queen, who, o'er th' expanse, 

Now highest reign'st, with boundless sway ! 
Oft has thy silent-marking glance 

Observed us, fondly- wand'ring, stray ! 
The time, unheeded, sped away. 

While love's luxurious pulse beat high, 
Beneath thy silver-gleaming ray, 

To mark the mutual- kindling eye. 

10. 

Oh ! scenes in strong remembrance set ! 

Scenes, never, never to return ! 
Scenes, if in stupor I forget, 

Again I feel, again I burn ! 
From ev'ry joy and pleasure torn. 

Life's weary vale I'll wander thro' ; 
And hopeless, comfortless, Fll mourn 

A faithless woman's broken vow. 



ROBERT BURNS. 

DESPONDENCY. 

AN ODE. 

1. 

OPPRESS'D with grief, oppressed with care, 
A burden more than I can bear, 

I sit me down and sigh : 
O life ! thou art a galhng load, 
Along a rough, a weary road, 

To wretches such as I ! 
Dim-backward as I cast my view, 
What sick'ning scenes appear ! 
What Sorrows yet may pierce me thro'. 
Too justly 1 may fear ! 
Still caring, despairing, 

Must be my bitter doom ; 

My woes here shall close ne'er, 

But with the closing tomb ! 

2. 

Happy, ye sons of busy -life. 
Who, equal to the bustling strife, 

No other view regard! 
Ev'n when the wished end^s deny'd, 
Yet while the busy means are ply'd, 

They bring their own reward : 
Whilst I, a hope-abandon'd wight, 

Unfitted with an ai7n. 
Meet e\ 'ry sad returning nigjht, 
And jt>yless mourn the same. 
You, bu-stling and justling. 

Forget each grief and pain ; 
T, listless, yet res^ss, 
Find every prospect vain. 



G g 



1^ 



234 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

3. 

How blest the solitary's lot, 
Who, all -forgetting, all-forgot, 

Within his humble cell, 
The cavern wild with tangling roots, 
Sits o'er his newly-gather'd fruits, 

Beside his chrystal well ! 
Or haply, to his ev'ning thought. 

By unfrequented stream. 
The w ays of men are distant brought, 
A faint collected dream : 
While praising, and raising 

His thoughts to heav'n on high, 
As wand'ring, meand'ring. 
He views the solemn sky. 

4. 

Than I, no lonely hermit plac'd, 
Where never human footsteps trac'd. 

Less fit to play the part, 
The lucky moment to improve, 
Am] Just to stop, siudjiist to move, 

With self-respecting art : 
But ah ! those pleasures, loves and joys, 

Which I too keenly taste, 
The Solitary can despise, 
Can want, and yet be blest ! 
He needs not, he heeds not, 

Or human love or hate ; 
Whilst I here, must cry here, 
At perfidy ingrate ! 

5. 

Oh ! enviable, early days, 

When dancing thoughtless pleasure's maze, 

To care, to guilt unknown ! 
How ill exchang'd for riper times, 
To feel the follies, or the crimes, 

Of others, or my own : 



ROBERT BURNS. $?S5 



Ye tiny elves, that guiltless sport, 

Like linnets in the bush, 
Ye little know the ills ye court, 
When manhood is your wish ! 
The losses, the crosses, 

That active Man engage ; 
The fears all, the tears all. 
Of dim declining age ! 



WINTER. 

A DIRGE. 



The Author composed this in his twenty-third year. He 
took more pleasure in the winter season than any other 
time, and to give his own words — " There is scarcely any 
earthly object gives me more — 1 do not know if I should 
call it pleasure — but something which exalts me, some- 
thing which enraptures me — to walk in the sheltered side 
of a wood or high plantation, in a cloudy winter-day, and 
hear the stormy wind howling among the trees, and roving 
over the plain. It is my best season for devotion : my 
mind is wrapt up in a kind of enthusiasm to Him, who, in 
the pompous language of the Hebrew bard, ' walks on the 
wings of the wind.' In one of these seasons, just after a 
train of misfortunes, I composed the following'" 



1. 

THE wintry west extends his blast, 
And hail and rain does blaw :^ 

Or, the stormy north sends driving forth 
The blinding sleet and snaw :^ 

1 Blow. 2 Snow. 



236 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

While, tumbling brown, the burn^ conies down, 

And roars frae^ bank to brae f 
And bird and beast, in covert, rest, 

And pass the heartless day. 

2. 
* The sweeping blast, the sky o'ercast,'* 

The joyless winter day, 
Let others fear, to nrie more dear, 

Than all the pride of May : 
The tempest's howl, it soothes my soul, 

My griefs it seems to join ; 
The leafle->i trees my fancy please, 

Their fate resembles mine I 

3. 

Thou Poxv^r Supreme^ whose mighty scheme 

These woes of mine fulfil ; 
Here, firm, I rest, they must be best, 

Because they are Thy Will ! 
Then all I want (O, do thou grant 

This one request of mine !) 
Since to enjoy thou dost deny, 

Assist me to resign ! 

1 Rivulet. 2 Prom. 3 Hill side. 

* Dr. Young. 



TO RUIN. 



This piece was probably written about the time that the au- 
thor thought of going to the West Indies, " when hungry 
ruin had him in the" wind." It appeared in the first edi- 
tion of his poems. 



ROBERT BURNS. 23r 



1. 

ALL hail ! inexorable lord ! 

At whose destruction-breathing word, 

The mightiest empires fall ! 
Thy cruel, woe-delighted train, 
The ministers of grief and pain, 

A sullen welcome, all ! 
With stern resolv'd, despairing eye, 

I see each aimed dart ; 
For one has cut my dearest tyCy 
And quivers in my heart. 
Then lowering, and pouring, 

The storm no more I dread ; 
Tho' thick'ning, and blackening, 
Round my devoted head. 

2. 

And thou grim pow'r, by life abhorr'd, 
While life 2i pleasure can afF)rd, 
Oh ! hear a wretch's prayer ! 
No more I shrink appall'd, afraid ; 
I court, I beg thy friendly aid, 
To close this scene of care ! 
When shall my soul, in silent peace, 

Resign \\{t^s joijless day ; 
My weary heart it's throbbings cease, 
Cold mould'ring in the clay ? 
No fear more, no tear more, 
To stain my lifeless face, 
Enclasped, and grasped. 
Within thy cold embrace ! 



238 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

ADDRESS 

TO EDINBURGH. 

1. 
EDINA ! Scotia^s darling seat ! 

All hail thy palaces and tow'rs, 
"Where once, beneath a monarch's feet, 

Sat legislation's sovereign pow'rs ! 
From marking wildly-scatt'red flow'rs, 

As on the banks of Ayr I stray'd, 
And singing, lone, the ling'ring hours, 

I shelter in thy honor'd shade. 

2. 
Here wealth still swells the golden tide, 

As busy trade his labours plies ; 
There architecture's noble pride 

Bids elegance and splendor rise ; 
Here justice, from her native skies, 

High wields her balance and her rod j 
There learning, with his eagle eyes, 

Seeks science in her coy abode. 

3. 
Thy Sons, £dina, social, kind. 

With open arms the stranger hail ; 
Their views enlarg'd, their lib'ral mind. 

Above the narrow, rural vale : 
Attentive still to sorrow's wail, 

Or modest merit's silent claim : 
And never may their sources fail ! 

And never envy blot their name ! 

4. 
Thy daughters bright thy walls adorn, 
Gay as the gilded summer sky, 



ROBERT BURNS. 239 

Sweet as the dewy, milk-white thorn, 

Dear as the raptur'd thrill of joy ! 
Fair Burnet* strikes the adoring eye, 

Heav'n's beauties on my fancy shine; 
I see the Sire of love on high, 

And own his work indeed divine ! 

5. 
There, watching high the least alarms, 

Thy rough, rude fortress gleams afar ; 
Like some bold vet'ran, gray in arms, 

And mark'd with many a seamy scar : 
The pond'rous wall and massy bar. 

Grim rising o'er the rugged rock. 
Have oft withstood assailing war. 

And oft repell'd th' invader's shock. 

6. 
With awe-struck thought, and pitying tears, 

I view that noble, stately dome. 
Where Scotia^s kings of other years, 

Fam'd heroes ! had their royal home : 
Alas, how chang'd the times to come ! 

Their royal name low in the dust ! 
Their hapless race wild-wand'ring roam ! 

Tho' rigid law cries out, 'twas just ! 

7. 
Wild beats my heart, to trace your steps, 

Whose ancestors, in days of yore. 
Thro' hostile ranks, and ruin'd gaps 

Old Scotia's bloody lion bore : 
Ev'n / who sing in rustic lore, 

Haply my sires have left their shed, 
And fac'd grim danger's loudest roar. 

Bold following where your fathers led ! 

8. 
Edina ! Scotia^s darling seat ! 
All hail thy palaces and tow'rs, 

• Miss Buraet, Lord Monboddo's daughter. 



240 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

Where once, beneath a monarch's feet, 
Sat legislation's sov'reig;n povv'rs ! 

From marking wildly- scattered flovv'rs ! 
As on the banks of Ai/r I stray'd, 

And singing, lone, the lingering hours, 
I shelter iu thy honored shade. 



LAMENT 



OF 



MARY, QUEEN OF SCOTS, 

ON THE APPROACH OF SPRING.* 
1. 

Now Nature hangs her mantle green 

On every blooming tree. 
And spreads her sheets o' daisies white, 

Out o'er the grassy-lea : 
Now PlioelHis cheers the crystal streams, 

And glads the azure skies ; 
But nought can glad the weary wight 

That fast in durance lies. 

2. 
Now lav 'rocks^ wake the merry morn, 

Aloft on dewy wing ; 
The merle,^ in his noontide bow'r, 

Makes woodland echoes ring ; 
The mavis^ wild wi''* many a note, 

Sings drowsy day to rest : 

1 Laiks. 3 Thrush, 

2 Blackbird, 4 With, 

• This Lameni n-as suggested to the author's mind, while perusing Piercy's 
Reliq^ues of English Poetry. 



ROBERT BURNS. 241 

In love and freedom they rejoice, 
Wi' care nor thrall opprest. 

3. 
Now blooms the lily by the bank, 

The primrose doun the brae ;' 
The hawthorn's budding in the glen, 

And milk-white is the slae :^ 
The meanest hind in fair Scotland 

May rove their sweets amang ;^ 
But I, the Queen of a'"* Scotland, 

Maun* lie in prison Strang/ 

4. 
I was the Queen o' bonnie France, 

Where happy I hae' been ; 
Fu' lightly rise I in the morn, 

As blithe lay down at e'en : 
And I'm the sov'reign of Scotland, 

And mony* a traitor there : 
Yet here I lie in foreign bands, 

And never ending care. 

5. 
But as for thee, thou false woman, 

My sister and my fae,^ 
Grim vengeance, yet, shall whet a sword 

That thro' thy soul shall gae :^° 
The weeping blood in woman's breast 

Was never known to thee ; 
Nor th' balm that draps" on wounds of woe 

Frae^^ woman's pitying e'e.^^ 

6. 

My son ! my son ! may kinder stars 

Upon thy fortune shine ; 
And may those pleasures gild thy reign. 

That ne'er wad^'' blink on mine ! 

1 Declivity. 6 Strong. 11 Drops. 

2 Sloe. 7 Have 12 Frora. 

3 Among. 8 Many. 13 Eye. 

4 All. 9 Foe. 14 Would. 

5 Must 10 Go. 

Hh 



242 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

God keep thee frae thy mother's faes, 

Or turn their hearts to thee : 
And where thou meet'st thy mother's friend, 

Remember him for me ! 

7. 
O ! soon, to me, may summer suns 

Nae mair/ hght up the morn I 
Nae raair, to me, the autumn winds 

Wave o'er the yellow corn ! 
And in the narrow house o' death 

Let winter round me rave ; 
And the next flow'rs that deck the spring., 

Bloom on my peaceful grave I 

1 No more. 



ELEGY 

ON 

CAPT. MATTHEW HENDERSON, 

Jl Gentleman who held the Patent for his Honours immedi ■ 
atelyfrom Mmighty God! 

But riow his radiant coui'se is run, 

For Mathew's course was bright; 
His soul was like the glorious sun, 

A matchless Heav'nly Light 1 

1. 

O DEATH ! thon tyrant fell and bloody ! 
The meikle* devil wi'* a vvoodie 
HaurP thee hame* to his black smiddie,^ 
O'er hurcheon^ hides, 

1 Great, 3 Drag, 5 Smithy. 

9. With a halter. 4> Home. 6 Hedge-hog 



ROBERT BURNS. 14£ 

And like stock-fish come o'er his studdie^ 
Wi' thv auld^ sides ! 

2. 
He's gane^ he's gane ! he's frae'* us torn, 
The ae^ best fellow e'er was born ! 
Thee, Matthew, Nature's seP shall mourn 

By wood and wild, 
Where, haply, pity strays forlorn, 

Frae man exil'd. 

3. 
Ye hills, near neebors' o' the starns. 
That proudly cock your cresting cairns!* 
Ye cliffs, the haunts of sailing yearns,^ 

Where echo slumbers! 
Come join, ye Nature's sturdiest bairns," 
My wailing numbers ! 

4. 
Mourn, ilka^^ grove the cushat^ ^ kens ! 
Ye haz'Uy shaws ^nd briery dens !" 
Ye burnies,^^ wimplin'^* down your glens, 

Wi'toddlin'^^din, 
Or foaming Strang,*^ wi' hasty stens," 
Frae lin^^ to lin. 

5. 
Mourn, little harebells o'er the lee ; 
Ye stately foxgloves fair to see ; 
Ye woodbines, hanging bonnilie 

In scented bow'rs ; 
Ye roses on your thorny tree, 

The first o' flowers. 

I Anvil. 
'2 Gill. 

3 Gone. 

4 From. 

5 One. 

6 Self. 

7 Neighbours of (h 
stars. 



8 Conical heaps 


of 


14 Rivulets. 


stones. 




l."; Meanderin 


9 Wild fowl. 




If) Purling. 


10 Children. 




17 Strong. 


11 Every. 




18 Strides. 


1'2 Wood-pigeon 


knows. 


10 Cataracf 


1.1 Hollows. 







244 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

6. 
At dawn, when ev'ry grassy blade 
Droops with a diamond at his head, 
At ev'n, when beans tlieir fragrance shed, 

V th' rustling gale, 
Ye maukins^ whiddin^ thro' the glade, 
Come join my wail. 

7. 

Mourn, ye wee^ songsters a' the wood ; 
Ye grouse that crap"* the heather* bud ; 
Ye curlews calling thro' a clud f 

Ye whistling plover ! 
And mourn, ye whirring paitrick' brood ; 

He's gane^ for ever ! 

8. 
Mourn, sooty coots, and speckl'd teals ; 
Ye fisher herons, watching eels ; 
Ye duck and drake, wi' airy wheels 

Circling the lake ; 
Ye bitterns, till the quagmire reels, 

Rair* for his sake. 

9. 

Mourn, clam'ring craiks^° at close o' day, 
Mang" fields o' fiovv'ring clover gay ; 
And when ye wing your annual way 

Frae our cauld^^ shore, 
Tell thae^^ far warlds,^* wha" lies in clay, 
Wham^® we deplore. 

10. 
Ye houlets," frae your ivy bow'r, 
In some auld tree, or eldritch^' tow'r, 

1 Hares. 7 Partridge- 13 Those. 

9 Whisking. 8 Gone. 14 Worlds. 

3 Little. 9 Roar. 15 Who. 

4 Crop. 10 Landrail. 16 Whom. 

5 Heath. 11 Among. 17 Owls. 

6 Cloud. 12 Cold. 18 Frightful. 



ROBERT BURNS. 245 

What time the moon, \vi' silenr glow'r,^ 

Sets up her horn, 
Wail thro' the dreary midnight hour 

Till waukrife^ morn ! 

11. 
O rivers, forests, hills, and plains ! 
Oft have ye heard my canty^ strains ; 
But now, what else for me remains 

But tales of woe ; 

And frae my een"* the drapping^ rains 

Maun^ ever flow. 

12. 

Mourn, spring, thou darling of the year ; 
Ilk^ cowslip cup shall kep^ a tear : 
Thou, simmer,^ while each corny spear 

Shoots up its head, 
The gay, green, flow'ry tresses shear. 

For him that's dead ! 



Thou, autumn, wi' thy yellow hair, 
In grief thy sallow mantle tear ! 
Thou, winter, hurling thro' the air 

The roaring blast. 
Wide o'er the naked world declare 

The worth we've lost ! 

14. 

Mourn him, thou sun, great source of light ! 
Mourn, empress of the silent night ! 
And you, ye twinkling starnies" bright. 

My Mathew mourn ! 
For through your orbs he's ta'en his flight, 

Ne'er to return. 



1 Stare. 

2 Watchful. 

3 Cheerful. 
•l Ejes. 



5 Dropping. 


8 Receive. 


6 Must. 


9 Summer, 


7 Each. 


10 Stars. 



246 THE POETICAL WORKS Ot 

15. 

O Henderson ! the man ! the brother ! 
And art thou i^one, and gone for ever ! 
And hast thou crost that unknown river! 

Life's dreary bound ! 
Like thee, where shall I find another, 

The world around ! 

16. 
Go to your sculptured tombs, ye Great, 
In a' the tinsel trash o' state ! 
But by thy honest turf PU wait. 

Thou man of worth ! 
And weep the ae best fellow's fate 

E'er lay in earth. 



THE EPITAPH. 

1. 

STOP, passenger ! my story's brief ; 

And truth I shall relate man ; 
I tell nae^ common tale o' grief. 

For Matthew was a great man. 

2. 
If thou uncommon merit hast, 

Yet spurn'd at fortune's door, man ; 
A look of pity hither cast. 

For Matthew was a poor man. 

3. 
If thou a noble sodger^ art, 

That passest by this grave man, 
There moulders here a gallant heart ; 

For Matthew was a brave man. 

1 No. 2 Soldic; 



ROBERT BURNS. 240 



4. 

If thou on men, their works and ways, 
Canst throw uncommon light, man ; 

Here lies wha^ weel had won thy praise, 
For Matthew was a bright man. 

5. 
If thou at friendship's sacred ca'- 

Wad life itself resign, man ; 
Thy sympathetic tear maun^ fa', 

For Matthew was a kind man ! 

6. 
If thou art staunch without a stain, 

Like the unchanging blue, man : 
This was a kinsman o' thy ain"* 

For Matthew was a true man- 

7. 
If thou hast wit, and fun, and fire, 

And ne'er guid^ wine did fear, man :• 
This was thy billie,^ dam, and sire, 

For Matthew was a queer man. 

8. 
If ony^ whiggish whingin' sot, 

To blame poor Matthew dare, man 5 
May dool' and sorrow be his lot. 

For Matthew was a rare man. 



1 Who well. 


4 Own. 


7 Any. 


2 Call. 


5 Good. 


8 Frettio; 


3 Must fall. 


6 Brother. 


9 Grief. 



248 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 



LAMENT 



JAMES, EARL OF GLENCAIRN. 

1. 

THE wind blew hollow frae^ the hills, 

By fits the sun's departing beann 
LookM on the fading yellow woods 

That wavM o'er Lugar's winding stream ^ 
Beneath a craigy steep, a bard, 

Laden with years and meikle^ pain. 
In loud lament bewaiPd his lord, 
H Whom death had all untimely ta'en, 

2. 
He leanM him to an ancient aik,^ 

Whose trunk was mould'ring down with years ^ 
His locks were bleached white wath time ; 

His hoary cheek was wet wi' tears ! 
And as he touch'd his trembling harp, 

And as he tun'd his doleful sang,"* 
The winds, lamenting thro' their caves. 

To echo bore the notes alang.* 

" Ye scattered birds that faintly sing, 

" The reliques of the vernal quire ! 
" Ye woods that shed on a' the winds 

The honours of the aged year ! 
" A few short months, and glad and gay, 

" Again ye'll charm the ear and e'e ; 
" But nocht® in all revolving time 

" Can gladness bring again to me. 

1 From. 3 Oak. 5 Along. 

2 Much. 4 Song. 6 Nought-- 



ROBERT BURNS, 249 

4. 
*' I am a bending aged tree, 

" That long has stood the wind and rain ; 
" But now has come a cruel blast, 

" And my last hald^ of earth is gane :^ 
" Nae^ leaf o' mine shall greet the spring, 

" Nae simmer sun exalt my bloom ; 
" But I maun" lie before the storm, 

" And ithers* plant them in my room. 

5. 

" IVe seen sae mony^ changefu' years, 

" On earth I am a stranger grown ; 
" I wander in the ways of men, 

*' Alike unknowing and unknown : 
'* Unheard, unpitied, unrelievM, 

" I bear alone my lade^ o' care, 
•^^ For silent, low, on beds of dust, 

*' Lie a' that would my sorrows share. 

6. 
" And last, (the sum of a' my griefs !) 

*' My noble master lies in clay ; 
" The flow'r aman?^^ our banaia bold, 

" His country's pride, his country's stay : -^ 

" In weary beint^ now I pine, 

*' For a' the life of life is dead, 
" And hope ha^ left my aged ken, ^ 

" On forward wing for ever ficd. 

7. 
" Awake thy last sad voice, my harp ! 

" The voice of woe and vvild despair ! 
" A\ake, resound thy latest lay, 

" Then sleep in silence evermair !^ 
" And thou, my last, best, only friend, 

" That filiest an untimely tomb, 

7 Load. 
S Among, 
9 Mote. 



1 H..ld. 


4 Must. 


2 Uone. 


5 Oiht-rs. 


3 No. 


6 Many. 




I i 



250 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

" Accept this tribute from the bard 

*' Thou brought from fortune's mirkest^ gloom. 

8. 
*' In poverty's low barren vale, 

" Thick mists, obscure, involvM me round ; 
" Though oft I turn'd the wistful eye, 

" Nae ray of fame was to be found : 
" Thou found'st me, like the morning sun 

" That melts the fogs in limpid air, 
•' The friendless bard and rustic song, 

•' Became alike thy fostering care. 

9. 
•' O ! why has worth so short a date? 

" While villains ripen grey with time ! 
*• Must thou, the noble, gen'rous, great, 

" Fall in bold manhood's hardy prime ! 
" Why did I live to see that day ? 

" A day to me so full of woe ! 
" O ! had I met the mortal shaft 

" Which laid my benefactor low ! 

10. 

" The bridegroom may forget the bride 

" Was made his wedded wife yestreen r 
" The monarch may forget the crown 

" That on his head an hour has been ; 
^' The mother may forget the child 

" That smiles sae sweetly on her knee ; 
-'■ But I'll remember thee, Glencairn, 

*' And a' that thou hast done for me !'' 

1 Darkest. 2 Last night 



ROBERT BURNS. 251 

ON THE DEATH OF 

SIR JAMES HUNTER BLAIR. 

1. 

THE lamp of day, with ill-presaging glare, 
Dirfi, cloudy, sunk beneath the western wave i 

Th' inconstant blast howl'd thro' the darkening air, 
And hollow whistled in the rocky cave. 

2. 
Lone as I wanderM by each cliiFand dell, 

Once the lov'd haunts of Scotia's royal train ;* 
Or mus'd where limpid streams, once hallo w'd well,t 

Or mould'ring ruins mark the sacred fane4 

3. 

Th' increasing blast roar'd round the beeding rocks, 
The clouds swift-wing'd flew o'er the starry sky, 

The groaning trees untimely shed their locks, 
And shooting meteors caught the starded eye. 

4. 

The paly moon rose in the livid east, 
And 'mong the cliffs disclos'd a stately form, 

In weeds of woe that frantic beat her breast, 
x\nd mix'd her wailings with the raving storm. 

5. 

Wild to my heart the filial pulses glow, 
^Twas Caledonia's trophied shield I view'd : 

Her form majestic droop'd in pensive woe, 
The lightning of her eye in tears imbued. 

6. 

Revers'd that spear, redoubtable in war, 
Reclin'd that banner, erst in fields unfurl'd, 

That like a deathful meteor gleam'd afar. 
And brav'd the mighty monarchs of the world. — 

• The King' Park, at Holyrood-house. 

t Sir Anthony's Well. ^ Sir Anthony's Chapel. 



25S THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

7. 

" My patriot son fills an untimely grave!" 
With accents wild and lifted arms she cried ; 

" Low lies the hand that oft was stretch'd to save, 
" Low lies the heart that swell'd with honest pride ! 

8. 

" A weeping country joins a widow's tear, 
" The helpless poor mix with the orphan's cry ; 

'* The drooping arts surround their patron's bier, 
" And grateful science heaves the heartfelt sigh. — 

8. 

" I saw my sons resume their ancient fire ; 
" I saw fair Freedom's blossoms richly blow ; 

*' But, ah ! how hope is born but to expire ! 
" Relentless fate has laid this guardian low. — 

10. 

" My patriot falls but shall he lie unsung, 
" While empty greatness saves a worthless name! 

" No ; every Muse shall join her tuneful tongue, 
" And future ageis hear his growing fame. 

IL 

" And I will join a mother's tender cares, 
"Thro' future times to make his virtues last, 

" That distant years may boast of other Blairs" — 
She said, and vanish'd with the weeping blast. 



A VISION. 

The scenery so finely described is taken from nature. The 
poet is supposed to be musiiig by night on the banks of the 
river Cluden, and by the ruins of Lincluden -Abbey, found- 
ed in the twelfth century, in the reign of Malcolm IV. of 



ROBERT BURNS. 25S 

whose present situation the reader may find some account 
in Tenant's tour in Scotland, or Grose's Antiquities of that 
division of the island. Such a time and such a place are 
well fitted for holding converse with aerial beings. 



1. 

AS I stood by yon rooflless tower, 

Where the wa" flower scents the dewy air, 

Where th' howlet^ mourns in her ivy bower. 
And tells the midnight moon her care. 

2. 
The winds were laid, the air was still, 

The stars they shot alang' the sky ; 
The fox was howling on the hill, 

And the distant-echoing glens reply. 

3. 
The stream, adown its hazelly path, 

Was rushing by the ruin'd wa's," 
^Hasting to join the weeping Nith, 

Whase* distant roaring swells and fa's. 

4. 
The cauld^ blue north was streaming forth, 

Her lights, wi' hissin' eerie'' din ; 
Athort^ the lift^ they start and shift, 

Like fortune's favours, tint^° as win. 

5. 
|By heedless chance I turn'd mine eyes, 
And, by the moon- beam, shook, to see 

1 Wall-flower. 5 Whose. 8 Athwart. 

2 Owl. 6 Cold. 9 Sky. 

3 Along. 7 Fearful, 10 Lost. 

4 Walls. 

• Variation. To join )'on river on the Strath. 

■\ Variation. Now looking over firth and fauld, 

Her horn ih':' pale-t'ac'd Cynihia rear'd ; 
When, lo, in form of minstrel auld, 
A stern and stalwart, ghiiist appear'd. 



254 ^jHE poetical WORKS OF 

A stern and stalwart' ghaist arise, 

Attir'd as minstrels wont to be. 
6. 
Had I a statue been o' stane,^ 

His darin' look had daunted me ; 
And on his bonnet grav'd was plain, 

The sacred posy — Libertie ! 

7. 

And frae^ his harp sic* strains did flow, 
Might rous'd the slumb'ring dead to hear ; 

But oh, it was a tale of woe. 
As ever met a Briton's ear ! 

8. 
He sang' wi' joy his former day, 

He weeping wail'd his latter times ; 
But what he said it was nae^ play, 

I winna^ ventur't in my rhymes. 

1 Powerful ghost. 4 Such. 6 Not. 

2 Stone. 5 Sung. 7 Will not. 

3 From. 



ON AN EVENING VIEW 

OF THE 

RUINS OF LINCLUDEN ABBEY. 

" Influenced, perhaps, by habits formed in early life. Burns 
usually composed while walking in the open air. His fa- 
vorite walks were on the banks of the Nith, or of the Clu- 
den, particularly near the ruins of Lincluden Abbey ; and 
this beautiful scenery he has very happily described un- 
der various aspects, as it appears during the softness and 
serenity of evening, and during the stillness and solem- 
nity of the night." 

The following lines are a beautiful specimen of the never 
fading flowers, that entwine a wreath to deck the brow of 
the immortal Bard. 



ROBERT BURNS. 255 

YE holy walls that still sublime 

Resist the crumbling touch of time ; 

How strongly still your view displays 

The Piety of ancient days ! 

As through your ruins hoar and gray — 

Ruins yet beauteous in decay — 

The silvery moon beams trembling play : 

The forms of ages long gone by 
Crowd thick on Fancy's wondering eye, 
And wake the soul to musings high. 

E'en now, as lost in thought profound, 
I view the solemn scene around, 
And pensive gaze with wistful eyes — 
The past returns, the present flies. 
Again the dome in pristine pride. 
Lifts high its roof and arches wide, 
That, knit with curious tracery, 
Each Gothic ornament display. 
The high-arched windows, painted fair, 
Show many a saint and martyr there. 
As on their slender forms I gaze, 
Methinks they brighten to a blaze ! 
With noiseless step, and taper bright. 
What are yon forms that meet my sight ? 
Slowly they move, while every eye 
Is heavenward raised in ecstacy. 
'Tis the soft, spotless, vestal train. 
That seek in prayer, the midnight fane. 
And hark ! — what more than mortal sound 
Of music breathes the pile around ? — 
'Tis the soft-chaunted choral song. 
Whose tones the echoing aisles prolong ; 
Till thence return'd, they softly stray 
O'er Clouden's wave with fond delay ; 
Now on the rising gale swell high. 
And now in fainting murmurs die. 
The boatmen on Nith's gentle stream, 
That glistens on the pale moon- beam. 



236 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

Suspend their dashing oars, to hear 
The holy anthem loud and clear ; 
Each worldly thought a while forbear, 
And mutter forth a half heard prayer. 

But, as I gaze, the vision fails. 
Like frost-work touched by southern gales ; 
The altar sinks — the tapers fade, 
And all the splendid scenes decayM I 
In window fair the painted pane 
No longer glows with holy stain, 
But, through the broken space, the gale 
Blows chilly from the misty vale. 

The bird of eve flits sullen by 
Her home, these aisles and arches high ; 
The choral hymn, that erst so clear, 
Broke softly sweet on fancy's ear. 
Is drown'd amid her mournful scream, 
That breaks the magic of my dream ; 
Rous'd by the sound — I start, and see 
The ruin'd sad reality ! 



TO THE OWL. 

Burns sometimes wrote poems in the old ballad style, which, 
for reasons best known to himself, he gave to the world, 
as so; gs of the olden lime. It was found among his MSS. 
in his own hand writing, with occasional interlineations, 
such as occur in all his primitive eflfusions. It is worthj 
©f his muse ; but it is more in the style of Gray or Collins. 



1. 

SAD bird of night, what sorrows call thee forth, 
To vent thy plaints thus in the midnight hour ? 



ROBERT BURNS. 257 

Is it some blast that gathers in the north, 
Threat'ning to nip the verdure of thy bow'r ? 

2. 
Is it, sad owl, that autumn strips the shade, 

And leaves thee here, unshelter'd and forlorn ? 
Or fear that winter will thy nest invade ? 

Or friendless melancholy bids thee mourn ? 

3. 

Sliut out, lone bird, from all the featherM train, 
To tell thy sorrows to th' unheeding gloom ; 

No friend to pity when thou dost complain, 
Grief all thy thought, and solitude thy home. 

4. 
Sing on, sad mourner ! I will bless thy strain^ 

And pleasM in sorrow listen to thy song : 
Sing on, sad mourner ! to the night complain, 

While the lone echo wafts thy notes along. 

5. 
Is beauty less, when down the glowing cheek 

Sad, pitious tears, in native sorrows fall ? 
Less kind the heart when anguish bids it break ? 

Less happy he who lists to pity's call ? 

6. 

Ah no, sad owl ! nor is thy voice less sweet. 
That sadness tunes it, and that grief is there ; 

That spring's gay notes unskilled, thou canst repeat ; 
That sorrow bids thee to the gloom repair : 

7. 

Nor that the treble songsters of the day. 

Are quite estranged, sad bird of night ! from thee; 

Nor that the thrush deserts the evening spray. 
When darkness calls thee from thy reverie.-— 

8. 
From some old towV, thy melancholy dome, 
While the gray wall and desert solitudes, 
K k 



258 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

Return each note, responsive to the gloom, 
Of ivied coverts and surrounding woods : 

9. 
There hooting ; I will list more pleasM to thee, 

Than ever lover to the nightingale ; 
Or drooping wretch, oppres'd with misery, 

Lending his ear to some condoling tale. 



ON SCARING SOME WATER FOWL 

IN LOCH-TURIT. 

Ji wild scene among the hills of Oicghtertyre. 

WHY, ye tenants of the lake. 
For me your wat'ry haunts forsake ? 
Tell me fellow-creatures, why 
At my presence thus you fly ? 
Why disturb your social joys. 
Parent, filial, kindred ties ? — 
Common friend to vou and me. 
Nature's gifts to all are free : 
Peaceful keep your dimpling wave, 
Busy feed, or wanton lave ; 
Or, beneath the sheltering rock, 
Bide the surging billow's shock. 

Conscious, blushing for our race. 
Soon, too soon, your fears I trace. 
Man, your proud usurping foe. 
Would be lord of all below : 
Plumes himself in Freedom's pride, 
Tyrant stern to all beside. 

The eagle from the cliffy brow, 
Marking you his prey below, 
In his breast no pity dwells. 
Strong necessity compels. 



ROBERT BURNS. 

But man, to whom alone is giv'n 
A ray direct from pitying heav'n, 
Glories in his heart humane — 
And creatures for his pleasure slain. 

In these savage, liquid plains, 
Only known to wand'ring swains, 
Where the mossy riv'let strays. 
Far from human haunts and ways ; 
All on Nature you depend, 
And life's poor season peaceful spend. 

Or, if man's superior might, 
Dare invade your native right, 
On the lofty ether borne, 
Man with all his pow'rs you scorn ; 
Swiftly seek, on clanging wings, 
Other lakes and other springs ; 
And the foe you cannot brave, 
Scorn at least to be his slave. 



ELEGY. 

ON THE LATE MISS BURNET, 

OF MONBODDO. 

Burns was a frequent guest, during his stay in Edinburgh, 
at the table of Lord Monboddo ; and while he enjoyed the 
society, and partook of the hospitalities of the venerable 
Judge, he experienced the kindness and condescension of 
his lovely and accomplished daughter. The singular beauty 
of this young lady was illuminated by that happy expres- 
sion of countenance, which results from the union of culti- 
vated taste and superior understanding, with the finest af- 
fections of the mind. The influence of such attractions was 
not unfelt by our poet. " There has not been any thing 
like Miss Burnet," said he in a letter to his friend, Mr. 
Chalmers of Ayr, « there has not been any thing like Miss 



26© THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

Burnet, in all the combination of beauty, grace and good- 
ness, which the Creator has formed, since Milton's Eve oh 
the first day of her existence " His friend Cunningham, 
also speaking of her being in the last stage of a consump- 
tion, exclaims ; — " Alas ! that so much beauty, innocence, 
and virtue, should be nipt in the bud ! Her's was the smile 
of cheerfulness, — of sensibility, not of allurement; and her 
elegance of manneis corresponded with the purity and ele- 
vation of her mind." Slie died in the flower of youth : and 
her memory is embalmed in the strains of Scotia's immor- 
tal bard. 



1. 
LIFE ne'er exulted in so rich a prize, 
As Burnet, lovely from her native skies ; 
Nor envious death so triumphed in a blow, 
As that which laid th' accomplibh'd Burnet low. 

2. 
Thy form and mind, sweet maid, can I forget ? 
In richest ore, the brightest jewel set ! 
In thee high Heaven above, was truest shown, 
As by his noblest work the Godhead best is known. 

3. 
In vain ye flaunt in summer's pride, ye groves ; 

Thou chrystal streamlet with thy flowery shore, 
Ye woodland choir that chaunt your idle loves, 

Ye cease to charm ; Eliza is no more. 

4. 
Ye healthy wastes immix'd with reedy fens. 

Ye mossy streams, with sedge and rushes stor'd., 
Ye rugged cliffs o'erhanging dreary glens, 

To you 1 fly, ye with my soul accord. 

5. 
Princes whose cumb'rous pride was all their worth, 

Shall venal lays their pompous exit hail ? 
And thou sweet excellence ! forsake our earth, 

And not a muse in honest grief bewail. 



ROBERT BURNS. %U, 

6. 

We saw thee shine in youth and beauty's pride, 
And virtue's hght that beams beyond the spheres ; 

But like the sun eclips'd at morning tide. 
Thou left'st us darkling in a world of tears. 

7. 
The parent's heart that nesded fond in thee, 

That heart how sunk, a prey to grief and care : 
So deckt the woodbine sweet yon aged tree, 

So from it ravish'd, leaves it bleak and bare. 



Siiss Iiii«~ii3pai^a»iii5» 



EPISTLE 

TO 

DAVIE*, A BROTHER POET. 

January, 1784. 

1. 
WHILE winds fraei s^S BenLofnofid^ blaw,^ 
And bar the doors wi'"* driving snaw,^ 

And hing us owre^ the ingle,' 
I set me down, to pass the time. 
And spin a verse or twa® o' ryme. 

In hamely,^ westlin^" jingle. 
While frosty winds blaw^^ in the drift, 

Ben^^ to the chimla lug," 

1 From off. 5 Snow. 10 Western , 

2 A noted mountain in 6 Over. 11 Blow. 
Scotland. 7 Fire, 12 In. 

3 Blow. 8 Two of. 13 Fire side. 

4 With. 9 Homely. 

• David Sillars, teacher, Irvine — and author of ft volume of Poems ; now 
living retired on the legacy of a wealthy uncle. 



26g THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

I grudge a wee^ the great- folk's gift, 
That live sae bien^ an' snug : 
I tent^ less, and want less 
Their roomy fire-side ; 
But hanker, and canker, 
To see their cursed pride. 

2. 
It's hardly in a body's povv'r, 
To keep, at times, frae beini^ sour, 

To see how things are shar'd ; 
Hov,' best o' chiels"* are whyles in want, 
While coofs* on countless thousands rant. 

And ken^ na how to wair't f 
But Davie, lad, ne'er fash' your head, 

Tho' we hae^ litde gear,^° 
We're fit to win our daily bread. 
As lang's" we're hale^^ and fier: 
^ Mair" spier na, nor fear na',* 
Auld'* age ne'er mind a feg ; 
The last o't the warst** o't. 
Is only but to beg. 
• 

3. 
To lie in kilns and barns at e'en. 
When banes^" are craz'd, and bluid*^ is thin, 

Is, doubtless, great distress ! 
Yet then content could make us blest ; 
Ev'n then, sometimes we'd snatch a taste 

Of truest happiness. 
The honest heart that's free frae a'^* 

Intended fraud or guile. 
However fortune kick the ba'," 
Has ay^° some cause to smile : 



1 Little. 


r 8 Trouble. 


15 Worst. 


2 Wealthy. 


9 Have. 


16 Bones. 


3 Mind, 


10 Heath. 


17 Blood. 


4 Men. 


11 Long as. 


18 All. 


5 Blockheads. 


12 Whole and sound. 


19 Ball. 


6 Know not. 


13 More ask not. 


20 Always 


7 Spend. 


»4 Old. 





* Ramsay. 



ROBERT BURNS. ^ 

And mind still, you'll find still, 

A comfort this nae sma' ;* 
Nae mair* then, we'll care then, 

Nae farther we can fa'.^ 

4. 

What the' ; like commoners of air, 
We wander out, we know not where, 

But either house or hal' ?* 
Yet Nature's charms, the hills and woods, 
The sweeping vales, and foaming floods, 

Are free alike to all. 
In days when daisies deck the ground, 

And blackbirds whistle clear. 
With honest joy our hearts will bound, 
To see the coming year : 

On braes^ when we please, then, 

We-11 sit and sowth® a tune : 

•Syne^ rhi/me till'l,* we'll time till't. 

An sing't when we hae done. 

5. 
It's no^ in titles nor in rank ; 
It's no in wealth like Lon'on^" bank, 

To purchase peace and rest ; 
It's no in makin" muckle, mair: 
It's no in books ; its no in lear,'^ 

To make us truly blest : 
If happiness hae not her seat 
And centre in the breast, 
We may be wise, or rich, or great 
But never can be blest : 

Nae treasures, nor pleasures, 

Could make us happy lang ; 
The heart ay's the part ay. 

That makes us right or wrang.^^ 

1 Not small. 6 Whistle gentlv. 10 London. 

« No more. 7 Then. ' 11 Making much move. 

3 Fall. S To it. 12 Learning. 

4 Hall. 9 Not. 13 Wrontj. 

5 Hilh 



im THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

6. 

Think ye, that sic'^ as you and I, 

Wha^ drudge and drive thro' wet and dry, 

Wi' never ceasing-toil ; 
Think ye, are we less blest than they, 
"Wha scarcely tent^ us in their way, 

As hardly worth their while ? 
Alas ! how aft,'' in haughty mood, 

God's creatures they oppress ! 
Or else, neglecting a'* that's guid,* 
They riot in excess ! 

Baith^ careless, and fearless, 
Of either heaven or hell ; 
Esteeming and deeming 
It a' an idle tale ! 

7. 
Then let us cherfu'^ acquiesce ; 
Nor make our scanty pleasures less, 

By pining at our state : 
And, ev'n should misfortunes come, 
I, here wha sit, hae met wi' some, 

An's thankfu'^ tor them yet. 
They gie" the wit of age to youth ; 

They let us ken" oursel ; 
They make us see the naked truth, 
The real guid and ill. 
Tho' losses, and crosses. 
Be lessons right severe. 
There's wit there, ye'il get there, 
Ye'll find nae other where. 

8. 
But tent me, Davie ^ ace o' hearts ! 
(To say aught less wad^^ wrang the cartes,*^ 
And flatt'ry I detest) 

1 Such. 6 Good, 10 Give. 

2 Who. 7 Both. 11 Know ourselves. 

3 Notice. 8 Chct^iful. 12 Would wrong. 

4 Oft. 9 ThanktuL 13 Cards. 

5 A.11. 



ROBERT BURNS. 265 

This life has joys for you and I ; 
And joys that riches ne'er could buy : 

And joys the very best. 
There's a' the pleamres o' the hearty 

The lover an'' the frien' :* 
Ye hae your Meg^ your dearest part, 
And I my darling Jean ! 
It warms me, it charms me, 

To mention but her Jiame ; 
It heats me, it beets^ me, 
And sets me a' on flame ! 

9. 
O, all ye PowVs who rule above ! 
O TfioUy whose very self art love ! 

Thou know'st my words sincere ! 
The life-blood streaminj^ thro' my heart, 
Or my more dear immortal part, 

Is not more fondly dear ! 
When heart-corroding care and grief 

Deprive my soul of rest, 
Her dear idea brings relief, 
And solace to my breast. 
Thou Beingy All-seeing, 

O hear my fervent pray'r ! 
Still take her, and make her 
Thy most peculiar care ! 

10. 
All hail ! ye tender feelings dear I 
The smile of love, the friendly tear, 

The sympathetic glow ! 
Long since, this world's thorny ways 
Had numbered out my weary days, 

Had it not been for you ! 
Fate still has blest me with a friend, 

In ev'ry care and ill ; 
And oft a more endearing band, 

A tie more tender still. 

1 And. 2 Friend. 3 Enkindle. 

L I 



£66 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF 



It lightens, it brightens, 

The tenebrific scene, 
To meet with, and greet witli 

My Davie, or my Jean ! 

11. 

O, how that name inspires my style ! 
The words come skelpin',^ rank and file, 

Amaist' before I ken ! 
The ready measure rins' as fine, 
As Phoebus and the famous Nine 

Were glowrin"* owre my pen. 
My spaviet^ Pegasus will limp, 

Till ance^ he's fairly het ;^ 
And then he'll hilch,^ and stih,^ and jimp,^ 
And rin an unco" fit ; 

But lest then, the beast then, 
Should rue this hasty ride, 
I'll light^^ now, and dight" now 
His sweaty, wizen'd" hide. 



1 Rapid succession. 

2 Almost. 

3 Runs. 

4 Presiding over. 

5 Lamed. 



6 Onee. 

7 Hot. 

8 Hobble. 

9 Limp. 
10 Jump. 



11 Surprising focf. 

12 Alight. 

13 Wipe. 

14 Faded. 



TO J. SMITH.* 



Writteih irSS, 



Friendship ! mysterious cement of the soul ! 
Sweet'ner of Life, and solder of Society ! 



I owe thee much 



Blaib. 



1. 

DEAR Smith, the sleest,^ paukie^ thief, 
That e'er attempted stealth or reif,* 

3 Plunder. 



1 Slyest. 



2 Cunning, 



* Mr. James Smith was a shop-keeper in Mwuchline, and a beloved and 
#teady friend of Burns. He died in the West Itwiies. 



ROBERT BURNS. 267 

Ye surely hae^ some warlock-breef ^ 

Owre^ human hearts ; 

For ne'er a bosom yet was prief " 

Against your arts ; 

2. 
For me, I swear by sun an'* moon, 
And ev'ry star that blinks aboon,® 
Ye've cost me twenty pair o'^ shoon 

Just gaun^ to see you ; 
And ev'ry ither^ pair that's done, 

Mair^° ta'en I'm wi'" yoUo 

3. 

That auld,^^ capricious carlin'," Nature, 
To mak*"* amends for scrimped* stature. 
She's turn'd you off, a human creature 

On her Jirst plan, 
And in her freaks, on ev'ry feature, 

She's wrote, the Man, 

4. 
Just now I've ta'en the fit o' rhyme. 
My barmie^^ noddle's working prime, 
My fancy yerkit^^ up sublime 

Wi' hasty summon : 
Hae ye a leisure-moment's time 

To hear what's comin' ? 

5. 
Some rhyme a neebor's^^ name to lash : 
Some rhyme (vain thought !) for needfu'^^ cash 
Some rhyme to court the countra^° clash,^^ 

An' raise a din ; 
For me, an aim I never fash f^ 

I rhyme for fun. 



1 Have. 


9 Other. 


16 Volatile. 


3 Wizzard art. 


10 More. 


17 Fermented. 


3 Over, 


11 With. 


18 Neighbours. 


4 Proof. 


12 Old. 


19 Needful 


5 Aud. 


13 Dame. 


20 Country. 


6 Above. 


14 Make. 


21 Vulgar fame 


7 Of shoes. 


15 Scanty. 


:22 Mind. 


8 Going. 







268 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

6. 

The star that rules my luckless lot, 
Has fated me the russet coat, 
An' damn'd my fortune to the groat ; 

But in requit. 
Has blest me with a random shot 

O' countra wit. 

7. 

This while my notion's taen asklent,^ 
To try my fate in guid,^ bhck prent :^ 
But still the mair Fm that way bent. 

Something cries, ' Hoolie I* 

* I red' you, honest man, tak* tent ! 

* Ye'll shaw^ your folly. 

8. 
* There's ijher^ poets, much your betters, 

* Far seen in Greek, deep men o' letters, 

* Hae thought they had ensur'd their debtors, 

* A'^ future ages ; 

* Now moths deform, in shapeless tatters, 

* Their unknown pages.' 

9. 

Then farewell hopes o' laurel-boughs, 
To garland my poetic brows I 
Henceforth Fll rove where busy ploughs 

Are whistling thrang,^" 
An' teach the lanely" heights an' howes^- 

My rustic sang." 

10. 
I'll wander on with tentless^^ heed, 
How never-haulting moments speed. 
Till fate shall snap' the brittle thread : 
Then, all unknown, 

11 Lonely. 

12 Hollows, 

13 Song. 

14 Thoughtless, 



1 Aslant. 


6 Take care. 


2 Good. 


7 Show, 


3 Print. 


8 Other. 


4 Softiv, 


9 All. 


5 Warn. 


10 Throng, 



ROBERT BURNS. &6» 

Fll lay me with th' inglorious dead, 
Forgot and gone ! 

11. 

But why o'^ death begin a tale ? 
Just now we're living, sound an' hale ;^ 
Then top and maintop croud the sail, 

Heave caj-e o'er side! 
And large, before enjoyment's gale, 

Let's tak^ the tide. 

12. 
This life, sae far's I understand, 
Is a' enchanted fairy-land, 
Where pleasure is the magic wand. 

That, wielded right, 

Maks hours like minutes, hand in hand, 

Dance by fu'< light. 

13. 
The magic wand then led us wield ; 
For, ance* that five-an'-forty's speel'd,** 
See, crazy, weary, joyless eild,' 

Wi' wrinkl'd face, 
Comes hostin,* hirplin" owre the field, 
Wi' creeping pace. 

14. 
When ance lifers day draws near the gloamin'," 
Then fareweel" vacant, careless roamin' ; 
An' fareweel chearfu'^^ tankards foamin', 

An' social noise ; 
An' fareweel dear, deluding woman, 
' The joy of joys ! 

15. 

O Life ! how pleasant in thy morning, 
Young fancy's rays the hills adorning ! 



1 or. 


5 Once. 


9 Halting over 


'2 Whole. 


6 Climbed. 


10 Evening. 


3 Take. 


7 Age. 


11 Farewell. 


4 Full. 


S Coughing. 


12 Cheerful. 



^JO THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

Cold-pausing caution's lesson scorning, 
We frisk away, 

Like school-boys at th' expected warning, 
To joy and play. 

16. 

We wander there, we wander here. 
We eye the rose upon the brier, 
Unmindful that the thorn is near, 

Amang^ the leaves ; 
And tho' the puny wound appear. 

Short while it grieves. 

17. 

Some, lucky find a flow'ry spot. 
For which they never toilM nor swat ;^ 
They drink the sweet and eat the fat ; 

But^ care or pain ; 
And, haply, eye the barren hut 

With high disdain. 

18. 
With steady aim, some fortune chase : 
Keen hope does ev'ry sinew brace ; 
Thro' fair, thro' foul, they urge the race, 
And seize the prey : 
Then cannie,^ in some cozie* place. 

They close the dai/. 

19. 

And others, like your humble servan',^ 
Poor wights ! nae' rules nor roads observin' ; 
To right or left, eternal swervin'. 

They zig-zag on ; 
Till curst with age, obscure an' starvin', 
They aften* groan. 

20. 
Alas ! what bitter toil an' straining — 
But truce with peevish, poor complaining ! 

1 Among, 4 Easy. 7 No. 

2 Sweated. 5 Comfortable. 8 Often. 

3 Without. 6 Servaat. 



ROBERT BURNS. 271 

Is fortune's fickle Luna waning ? 

E'en let her gang!^ 
Beneath what light she has remaining, 

Let's sing our sang.^ 

21. 
My pen I here fling to the door, 
And kneel, ' Ye Pow'rs ! and warm implore, 

* Tho' I should wander Terra o'er, 

' In all her climes, 

* Grant me but this, I ask no more, 

* Ay rowth' o' rhymes. 

22. 

* Gie^ dreeping* roasts to countra lairds,^ 

* Till icicles hing frae' their beards ; 

* Gie fine braw^ claes to fine life-guards, 

* And maids of Honor : 

* And yilP an' whisky gie to cairds," 

' Until they sconner," 

23. 

* A title, Dempster merits it ; 

* A garter gie to Willie Pitt ; 

' Gie wealth to some be-ledger'd cit, 

* In cent, per cent. : 

* But give me real, sterling wit, 

' And I'm content-. 

24. 

* While ye are pleas'd to keep me hale, 
' 111 sit down o'er my scanty meal, 

* Be't water-hrose^^ or mudin-kail^^ 

* Wi' chearfu' face, 

* As lang's" the muses dinna*' fail 

' To say the grace.' 

1 Go. 7 From. pouring hot water on 

2 Song. 8 Handsome clothes. oat meal. 

3 Plenty. 9 Ale. 13 Broth made of water 

4 Givf. 10 TiKvelling tinkers. barley and cabbage. 

5 Distilling. 11 Loathe. 14 Long as. 
« Landholders. 12 A pudding made by 1.'! Do not 



Srs THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

25. 
An axious e'e^ I never throws 
Behint^ my lug:,^ or by my nose : 
I jouk'' beneath misfortune's blows 

As weeFs^ I may ; 
Sworn foe to sorrow, care, and prose, 
I rhyme away. 

26. 
O ye douce^ folk, that live by rule, 
Grave, tideless-blooded, calm and cool. 
How much unlike ! 
Your hearts are just a standing pool. 

Your lives a dyke [^ 

27. 
Nae hair-brain'd, sentimental traces, 
In your unlettered nameless faces ! 
In arioso trills and graces 

Ye never stray, 
But gravissimOy solemn basses 

* Ye hum away. 

28. 
Ye are sae gfave^ nae doubt ye're wise ; 
Nae ferly' tho' you do despise 
The hairum-scairum, ram- stam^ boys, 

The rattling squad : 
I see ye upward cast your eyes — 

— Ye ken the road — 

29. 
Whilst I — but I shall haud^" me there — 
Wi' you Pll scarce gang 077z/" where — 
Then, Jamie, I shall say nae mair 

But quat^^ my sang, 
Content with You to make a pair, 

Where'er I gang. 

1 Eye. 5 Well as. 9 Thoughtless. 

2 Behind. 6 SH<!ate. 10 Hold. 
S Ear. 7 Dikf. 11 Anv. 

4 Dodge. 8 Wonder. 12 Quit my song: 



ROBERT BURNS. Sm 



EPISTLE TO J. LAPRAIK, 

AN OLD SCOTCH BARD. 

^pril 1, 1785. 

Tliis poem was produced exactly on the occasion described 
by the author. Mr. Lapraik is described by Burns himself, 
as a facetious old fellow, lately proprietor of Dalfram, 
near Muirkirk, Ayrshire. This little property he was 
obliged to sell, in consequence of some connexion as secu- 
rity, for some persons concerned in that villainous bubble, 
the ^yr Bank. He composed the song to which Burns al- 
ludes to so delicately in the third stanza, one day when his 
wife had been fretting over their misfortune. It will not 
displease our readers to see the indentical song annexed.* 



1. 
WHILE briers an'^ woodbines budding §1*6611? 
An' paitricks^ scraichin^ loud at e'en, 
And morning poussie^ whiddin seen, 
Inspire my muse, 
This freedom, in an unknown frien',^ 
I pray excuse. 

1 And. 3 Screaking. 5 Friend. 

2 Partridges. 4 Hare skipping. 

• TUNE— Jo/iHJwe'* Greij Breeka. 

1. 
When I npon thy bosom lean, 

And fondly clasp liiee a' my ain, 
1 glory iu tiie sacred ties 

That made us ane, wha ance were twain : 
A mutual flame inspires us baith. 

The tender look, ttie melting kiss: 
Even years shall ne'er destroy our love, 

But only gie us change of bliss. 

2. 
JIae I a wish ? it's a' for thee ; 

I ken thy wish is me to please ; 
Our moments pass sae smooth away, 

That numbers \yond'ring on us gazo : 

M m 



2r4 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

2. 
On Fasten-een^ we had a rockin,^ 
To ca" the crack and weave^ our stockin' ; 
And there was muckle* fun an jokin% 

Ye need na*^ doubt ; 
At length we had a hearty yokin' 
At sang^ about. 

3. 
There was ae^ sang^ amang^ the rest, 
Aboon^" them a'*^ it pleas'd me best, 
That some kind husband had addrest 

To some sweet wife : 
It thirl'd^^ the heart-strings thro' the breast, 
A' to the life. 

4. 
I've scarce heard ought describes sae^^ weal, 
What gen'rous, manly bosoms feel ; 
Thought I, ' Can this be Pope, or Steele, 
' ' * Or Beattie's wark !'*^ 

They tauld^* me 'twas an odd kind chieP* 
About Muirkirk. 



1 Shrove-Tuesday. 6 Not. 12 ThriU'd. 

2 Friendly visit. 7 Song. 13 So well. 

3 Carry on the conver- 8 One. 14 Work, 
sation. 9 Among. 15 Told. 

4 Knit. 10 Above. 16 Fello^^^ 

5 Much. 11 All. 



Weel pleas'd they see our happy days. 
Nor envy's sel' finds aught lo blame ; 

And ay when weary cares arise 
I make thy bosom still my hame. 

3. 
I lay me there, and take my rest. 

And if that aught disturb my dear, 
Tbid her laugh her cares away. 

And beg her not to drap a tear : 
Hae I a jo) ? It's a' her ain ; 

United still her heart and mine ; 
They're like the woodbine round the tree. 

That's twined till death shall thera disjoin. 



ROBERT BURNS. Q75 

5. 
It pat^ me fidgin^-fain to hear't ; 
An' sae about him tliere I spier't f 
Then a' that ken't^ him round declared, 

He had ingme,' 
That nane^ excellM it, few cam^ near't, 
It was sae fine. 

6. 
That set him to a pint of ale, 
An" either douce' or merry tale, 
Or rhymes an' sangs" he'd made himsel,'^ 

Or witty catches, 
'Tween Inverness and Tiviotdale 

He had few matches. 

7. 
Then up I gat,^^ an' swoor'^ an aith, 
Tho' I should pawn my pleugh^* an graith, 
Or die a cadger*^ pownie's death. 

At some dyke'^-back, 
A pint an' gill I'd gie''' them baith,^^ 

To hear you crack. ^^ 

8. 
But, first an' foremost, I should tell, 
Amaist^^ as soon as I could spell, 
I to the crambo-jingle^'^ fell, 

Tho' rude an' rough, 
Yet crooning^^ to a body's sel,^^ 

Does weeP^ eneugh. 

9. 
I am nae'*/)o<?/, in a sense. 
But just a rhymer, like, by chance, 

1 Put. 10 Songs. 18 Both. 

2 Fidgeting. 11 Himself. 19 Convers^iou. 

3 Enquired. 12 Got. 20 Aloost. 

4 Knew. 13 Swore an oath. 21 Kh/.inng. 

5 Ingenuity. 14 Plough ami gear. 22 Singing. 

6 None. 15 Waggoner pony's. 2.3 Silt. 

7 Came. 16 Stone-fence. 24 Well enough 

8 And. 17 Give. 25 No. 

9 Moral. 



276 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

An' hae^ to learning nae pretence, 

Yet, what the matter? 

Whene'er my muse does on me glance, 
I jingle at her. 

10. 
Your critic-folk may cock their nose, 
And say, * How can Vou e'er propose, 
* You wha ken^ hardly verse frae' prose 

To mak* a sang ?^ 
But, by your leaves, my learned foes, 

Ye're maybe wrang.* 

11. 

What's a' your jargdn o'^ your schools, 
Y^oui Latin names for horns an' stools ; 
If honest nature made you Jbols, 

What sairs' 3*our grammars ? 
Ye'd better ta'en up spades and shools^ 

Or knappin^- hammers. 

12. 

A set o' dull, conceited hashes, ^° 
Confuse their brains in college-classes ! 
They gang^^ in stirks,^^ and come out asseSj 

Plain truth to speak ; 
An' syne" they think to climb ParnassiTS 
By dint o' Greek ! 

13. 
Gie me ae spark o' Nature's fire, 
That's a' the learning 1 desire ; 
Then tho' I drudge thro' dub an' mire 
At pleugh or cart. 
My Muse, tho' hamely^" in attire. 

May touch the heart. 

11 Go. 

12 Young bullocks or 
heifers. 

13 Then 

14 Homely, 



1 Have. 


7 Avails. 


2 Who knows. 


8 Shovels. 


3 From. 


9 Hammers for break- 


4 Mike. 


ing; stones. 


5 ^V. ....}(. 


10 Fools. 


6 Of. 





i 

ROBERT BURNS. 277 

14. 

for a spunk^ o' Allan^s^ glee, 
Or Ferguson^s, the bauld^ an slee, 
Or bright Lapraik^Sy my friend to be, 

If I can hit it ! 
That would be lear^ eneugh for me, 
If I could get it. 

15. 
Now, Sir, if ye hae friends enow, 
Tho' real friends I b'lieve are few, 
Yet, if your catalogue be fow,"* 

I'se no insist ; 
But, gif ^ ye want ae friend that's true, 
Pm on your list. 

16. 

1 vvinna^ blaw about mysel, 
As ill I like my fauts' to tell ; 

But friends an' folk that wish me well, 

They sometimes roose* me : 

Tho' I maun^ own, as monie**' still 

As far abuse me. 

17. 

There's ae wee^^faut they whiles lay to me, 
I like the lasses — Gude forgie*^ me ! 
For monie^^ a plack''* they wheedle" frae'^ me. 

At dance or fair : 
Maybe some ither^'' thing they gie me 

They weel can spare. 

18. 
But Mauchline race, or Mauchline fair, 
I should be proud to meet you there ; 
We'se gie ae night's discharge to care, 
If we forgather,'^ 



I Spack. 


7 Faults. 


13 Manv. 


2 BoW and aly. 


8 Praise me. 


14 Ccin'. 


3 Learning enough. 


9 Must. 


15 Coax. 


4 Full. 


10 Manv. 


16 From. 


5 ir. 


11 Little. 


17 OtI.er. 


6 Will not boast. 


12 Forgive. 


18 Meet togetiit; 



Ramsey. 



m THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

An' hae a swap o' rhymin^-xvare 

Wi' ane^ anither. 

19. 

The four-gill^ chap, we'se gar^ him clatter^ 
An' kirsen'* him wi' reekin* water ; 
Syne^ we'll sit down an tak^ our whitter/ 

To cheer our heart ; 
An' faith, we'se be acquainted better 

Before we part. 

20. 
Awa^ ye selfish, warly race, 
Wha think that havins,^" sense, an' grace, 
Ev'n love an' friendship, should give place, 

To catch- theplack ! 
I dinna" like to see your face, 

Nor hear your crack. *^ 

21. 
But ye whom social pleasure charms, 
Whose hearts the tide of kindness warms, 
Who hold your being on the terms, 

* Each aid the others,' 
Come to my bowl, come to my arms. 

My friends, my brothers ! 

22. 
But to conclude my lang" epistle, 
As my auld pen's worn to the grissle :" 
Twa" lines frae you wad*' gar me fissle, 

Who am, most fervent, 
While I can either sing, or whissle," 

Your friend and servant. 

1 One another. 7 Take. 13 Long. 

2 Pint measure. 8 He'»riy draught. 14 Gristle. 

3 We'll make. 9 Away. 15 Two. 

4 Christen. 10 Gooil manners. 16 Would make me glailr 

5 Smoking. 11 Do not. 17 WhistlP. 

6 Then. 12 Chat. 



ROBERT BURNS. 27.9 

TO THE SAME. 

April 21, 1785, 

1. 
WHILE new-ca'd^ kye^ rowte at the stake, 
An'^ pownies reek in pleagh* or braik, 
This hour on e'enins* edge I take, 

To own I'm debtor. 
To honest-hearted, auld^ Lapraik^ 

For his kind letter. 

2. 
Forjesket^ sair,^ with weary legs, 
Rattlin' the corn out-owre^ the rigs, 
Or deahng thro' amang*° the naigs 

Their ten-hours bite, 
My awkart^^ muse sair pleads and begs, 
I would na^^ write. 

3. 
The tapetless,*^ ramfeez'ld" hizzie, 
She's saft^^' at best an' something lazy, 
Quo' she, ' Ye ken^® we've been sae" busy 
* This month an' mair," 

* That trowth,^^ my head is grown right dizzie, 

' An' something sair.' 

4. 
Her dowfF^° excuses pat^^ me mad : 

* Conscience,' says I, * ye thowless^^ jad ! 
' I'll write, an* that a hearty blaud,'^ 

' This vera^" night ; 

1 Calfed, 

2 Cows low. 

3 And ponys smoke. 

4 Plough or harrow. 

5 Evenings. 

6 Old. 

7 Jaded with fatigue. 

8 Sore. 



9 Over the ridges. 


17 So. 


10 Among the horses. 


18 More. 


11 Awkward. 


19 In truth. 


12 Not. 


20 Frivolous. 


13 Hetdless. 


21 Put. 


14 Exhausted hussy. 


22 Inactive jade. 


15 Soft. 


23 Piece. 


16 Know 


24 Very. 



fm THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

* So dinna^ ye affront your trade, 

* But rhyme it right. 

5. 
" Shall bauld^ La^jraik, the king o'^ hearts, 

* Tho' mankind were a pack o'* cartes,'* 
"• Roose* you sae* weel for your deserts, 

' In terms sae friendly, 

* Yet ye'Il neglect to shaw' your parts 

* An' thank him kindly ?* 

6. 

Sae I gat^ paper in a blink,^ 
An' down gaed^" stianpie in the ink : 
Quoth I, ' Before I sleep a wink, 

' I vow I'll close it ; 
'■ An' if ye winna mak" it clink, 

' By Jove I'll prose it!' 

7. 
Sae I've begun to scrawl, but whether 
In rhyme, or prose, or baith^^ thegither. 
Or some hotch-potch" that's rightly neither, 

Let time mak proof ; 
But I shall scribble down some blether^"* 
Just clean aff-loof.'* 

8. 
My worthy friend, ne'er grudge an' carp, 
Tho' fortune use you hard an' sharp ; 
Come, kittle" up your moorland harp 

Wi' gleesome touch! 
Ne'er mind how fortune waft^'' an warp ; 
She's but a b-tch. 



1 Do not. 


7 Show. 


13 Mixture. 


2 Bold. 


8 Got. 


14 Idle nonsense 


3 Of. 


9 Instant. 


15 Offhand. 


4 Cards. 


10 Went. 


16 Excite. 


5 Extol. 


11 Make it metre. 


17 Weave. 


6 So well. 


12 Both together. 





ROBERT BURNS. 281 

9. 

She's gien^ me monie' a jirt' an' fleg,* 
Sin'^ I could striddle^ oh re a rig ; 
But, by the L — d, tho' I should beg 
Wi' I van' povv, 
ni laugh, an' sing, an' shake my leg. 
As lang's^ I dovv !® 

10. . 
Now comes the sax" an' twentieth simmer,^! 
I've seen the bud upo' the timmer,^^ 
Still persecuted by the limmer^' < 

Frae^* year to year; 
But yet, despise the kittle^* kimmer, 
/, Rob^ am here. 

11. 

Do you envy the city Gent^ 
Behint^^ a kist^' to lie an' sklent,^* 
Or purse-proud, big vvi"^ cent., per cent. 

An' muckle'" wame, 
In some bit brugh** to represent 

A Bailie' s^"^ name ? 

12. 
Or is't the paughty,^^ feudal Thane,^* 
Wi' ruffl'd sark^* an' glancing cane, 
W ha^ thinks himsel" nae" sheep-shank bane,^^ 

But lordly stalks, 
While caps an' bonnets afF are taen, 
As by he walks ? 

1 Given. 11 Sumnaer. 21 Borough. 

2 Many. 12 Timber. 22 Alderman's. 

3 Jerk. 13 Hussy. 23 Haughty. 

4 Fright. 14 From. 24 Baronet. 

5 Since. 1.5 Inconstant gossip. 25 Shirt. 

6 Straddle. 16 Behind. 26 Who. 

7 Hoary head. 17 Cheat. 27 Himself 

8 Long as. 18 Deal dishonestly. 28 No. 
O/Am able, 19 W^ith. 29 Bone 

10 Six. 20 Big belly. 

Nn 



2!BS, THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

13. 
* O Thou wha gies^ us each guid" gift \ 
' Gie me o'' wit an' ^ense a lift, 

* Then turn me, if Thou please, adrift, 

* Thro' Scotland wide ; 

* Wi' cits nor lairds I wadna" shift, 

' In a'* their pride V 

14. 
Were this the charter of our state, 
' On pain o' hell be rich an' great,' 
Damnation then would be our fate, 

Beyond remead ; 
But thanks, to Heav'n, that's no the gate*^ 
We karn our creed. 

15. 
For thus the royal mandate ran, 
When first the human race began, 

* The social, friendly, honest man, 

' Whate'er he be, 
' 'Tis he fulfils great Nature^ s plan, 

* And none but he P 

IG. 
O mandate, glorious and divine ! 
The followers o' the ragged Nine, 
Poor, thoughtless devils ! yet may shine 

In glorious light, 
While sordid sons o' Mammon's line 
Are dark as night. 

17. 

Tho' here they scrape, an' squeeze, an' growl, 
Their worthless nievefu'^ of a soul 
May in some Jiiture carcase howl. 

The forest's fright ; 
Or in some day-detesting owl, 

May shun the light. 

1 Gives. 4 Would not. 6 Way. 

a Good. 5 All. 7 Handful 

3 Of. 



ROBERT BURNS. ^§^ 

18. 
Then may Lapraik and Burns arise, 
'To reach their native, kindred skies. 
And sing their pleasures, hopes an' joys, 
In some mild sphere, 
Still closer knit in friendship's ties 

Each passing year ! 



TO WILLIAM SIMPSON, 

OCHILTREE. 

May, 1785, 

1. 
I GAT^ your letter, winsome^ Willie; 
Wi'* gratefu' heart I thank you brawlie ;^ 
Tho' I maun* say't, I wad'^ be silly, 
An" unco vain, 
Should I believe, my coaxin' billie,^ 

Your flatterin' strain. 

2. 
But Fse believe ye kindly meant it, 
I sud^ be laith^" to think ye hinted 
Ironic satire, sidelins" sklented 

On my poor Musie ; 
Tho' in "^ic^'^ phraisin terms ye've penn'd it, 
I scarce excuse ye. 

O. 

My senses wad" be in a creel, ^'* 
Should I but dare a hope to speel,'^ 

1 Got. 7 And extremely. 12 Such wheedlitg. 

2 Chpetful. 8 Friend. 13 Would. 

3 With grateful. 9 Siiould. 14 State of mental sia- 

4 Sincerely. 10 Loath. pidity. 
.s Must. 11 ladirectly thrown. 15 Climb. 
6 Would. 



284 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

Wi- Allan, or wi' Gilbertjield, 

The braes' o' fame ; 

Or Fergusoriy the writer-chiel,^ 

A deathless name. 

4. 
(O Ferguson ! thy glorious parts 
111 suited law's dry, musty arts ! 
My curse upon your vvhunstane^ hearts, 

Ye Enbrugh'* Gentry ! 
The tythe* o' what ye waste at cartes'^ 

Wad stow'd' his pantry!) 

5. 
Yet when a tale comes i' my head, 
Or lasses gie^ my heart a screed,^ 
As whyles'° they're like to be my dead,^' 

(O sad disease !) 
I kittle^^ up my rustic reed ; 

It gies me ease. 

6. 
^ Auld^' Coila,^^* now, may fidge fu'" fain, 
She's gotten^* poets o' her ain,^^ 
Chiels" wha their chanters" winna hain,^° 

But tune their lays. 
Till echoes a'^^ resound again 

Her weeP^-sung praise. 

7. 
Nae'^ poet thought her worth his while. 
To set her name in measur'd style ; 



1 Hills of. 


9 Rent. 




16 Has got. 


a Student of law. 


10 Sometimes. 




17 Own. 


3 Hard stone. 


11 Death. 




18 Fellows who. 


4 Edinburgh. 


12 Tune. 




19 Musical pipes. 


5 Tenth. 


13 Old. 




20 Will not spare. 


6 Cards. 


14 A district of 


Ayr- 


21 All. 


7 Stored. 


shire. 




22 Well sung. 


8 Give. , 


15 Full. 




23 No. 



* Coila or Kyle, the middle district of Ayrshire, reaching from the Irwin, 
which separates it from the district of Cunningham on the North, to the Dood 
which divides it from the district of Carrick on the South. ' 



ROBERT BURNS. 285 

She lay like some unken'd-of ^ isle 

Beside New-Holland, 

Or whare^ wild-meeting oceans b(5il 

Besouth Magellan. 

8. 

Ramsay an' famous Ferguson 
Gied' Forth an' Tay a lift aboon ;'• 
Yarrow an' Tweedy to monie* a tune, 

Owre® Scotland rings, 
While Irwin, Lugar, Ayr, an' Doon, 

Naebody^ sings. 

9. 

Th' Illissus, Tiber, Thames, an' Seine, 
Glide sweet in monie a tunefu' line ; 
But, fVillie, set your fit^ to mine, 

An' cock your crest, 
We'll gar^ our streams an' burnies'" shine 

Up vvi' the best, 

10. 
We'll sing auld Coila's plains an' fells, 
Her moors red-brown wi' heather bells. 
Her banks an' braes," her dens an' dells. 

Where glorious Wallact 
Aft^^ bure the gree, as story tells, 

Frae'^ suthron billies, 

11. 

At Wallace" name, what Scottish blood 
But boils up in a spring-tide flood ! 
Oft have our fearless fathers strode 

By Wallace" side. 
Still pressing onward, red-vvat^^ shod. 

Or glorious dy'd I 

1 Unknown. 

2 Where. 

3 Gave. 

4 Above. 

5 Many. 



6 Over. 


11 Hills. 


7 Nobody. 


12 Ott bore the prize. 


8 Foot. 


13 From southern neigh 


9 Make. 


bours. 


10 Rivulets. 


14 Wet shod with bloorl 



£86 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

12. 

O sweet are Collars haiighs^ an' woods. 
When lintwhites^ chaunt amang^ the buds, 
And jinkin" hares, in amorous whids,' 
Their loves enjoy, 
While thro' the braes the cushat^ croods 
With wailfu'^ cry ! 

13. 
Ev'n winter bleak has charms to me, 
W^hen winds rave thro' the naked tree ; 
Or frosts on hills of Ochiltree 

Are hoary gray ; 
Or blinding drifts wild-furious flee,^ 

Darkening the day \ 

14. 

O Nature ! a' thy shews an' forms 
To feeling, pensive hearts hae charms I 
Whether the summer kindly warms, 

Wi' life an' light, 
Or winter howls, in gusty storms, 

The lang^ dark night ! 

15. 
The muse, nae poet ever fand*° her, 
Till by himseP^ he learn'd to wander, 
Adovvn some trotting burn's meander, 

An' no^^ think lang ; 
O sweet, to stray an' pensive ponder 

A heart- felt sang !^^ 

16. 
The warly^^ race may drudge an' drive, 
Hog-shouther/^ jundie, stretch an' strive, 
Let me fair JVature^s face descrive,^® 

And I, wi' pleasure. 



t Valleys. 


7 Wilful. 


2 Linnets. 


8 Fly. 


.3 A.DOns;. 


9 Long. 


4 Dodging. 


10 Found. 


5 Frisks. 


11 Himself. 


C Wood-pidgeon eoos. 


12 Not. 



13 Song. 

14 Worldly. 

15 Justle and jog with (ht 
shoulders and eibowg, 

16 Deseiilje. 



ROBERT BURNS. 2&: 

l^all let the busy, grumbling hive, 

Bum^ owre their treasure. 

17. 
FareweeJ,' ' my rhyme-composing brither"^ 
We've been owrC* lang unkenn'd to ither r* 
Now let us lay our heads thegither,^ 
In love fraternal : 
May Erwy wallop^ in a tether, 

Black fiend, infernal ! 

18. 

While highlandmen hate tolls and taxes; 
While moorlan' herds like guid,* fat braxies;^ 
While Terra Firma, on her axis 

Diurnal turns, 
Count on a friend, in faith an' practice. 

In Robert Burns. 

1 Ham. 4 To long. 7 Dance on a halfer 

2 J'arewell. 5 One another. 8 Gootl. 
^ Brother. 6 Togetlier. 



POSTSCRIPT. 

1. 
My memory's no^ worth a preen i^ 
I had amaist^ forgotten clean, 
Ye bade me write you what they mean 
By this new- light, ^ 
'Bout which our herds'^ sae aft hae been 
Maist hke to fight. 

2. 
In days when mankind were but callans* 
At grammar^ logic, an' sic* talents, 

1 Not. 3 Almost. 5 Boys. 

2 Pin. 4 Pastors so oft have. 6 Such. 

• JVirw-nght is a cant phrase in the Vl'^est of Scotland, for those reljgiour 
opinions which Br. Taylor, of Norwich, has defended so strepiousl.v. 



£88 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF 



They took nae^ pains their speech to balance, 
Or rules to gie,^ 

But spak^ their thouL';hts in plain, braid"* lallans, 
Like you or me, 

^^ 
In thae^ auld times, they thought the moon. 
Just like a sark,^ or pair o' shoon,^ 
Wore by degrees, till her last roon* 

Gaed^ past their viewing, 
An' shortly after she was done, 

They gat" a new ane.'' 

4. 
This past for certain, undisputed ; 
It ne'er cam^^ i' their heads to doubt it, 
Till chiels^^ gat up an'** wad confute it, 
An' ca'd" it wrang; 
An' muckle*'* din there was about it, 

Baith^^ loud an' lang." 

5. 
Some herds, weeP^-learn'd upo' the beuk,^** 
Wad*^ threap auld folk the thing misteuk f^ 
For 'twas the auld moon turn'd a neuk,^^ 

An' out o' sight, 
An' backlins^* comin', to the leuk,-^ 

She grew mair^*^ bright. 

6. 
This was deny'd, it was affirm'd ; 
The herds an' hirsells^'^ were alarm'd ; 
The rev'rend grey-beards rav'd an' storm'd, 
That beardless laddies"^ 



1 No. 


11 One. 


20 Book. 


2 Give. 


12 Came. 


21 Would insist. 


.3 Spoke. 


13 Fellows got. 


22 Mistook. 


4 Broad Scotch. 


14 And would. 


23 Nook. 


5 Those old. 


15 CalI'd it wrong. 


24 Backwards comiDg 


6 Shirt. 


16 Much. 


25 Look. 


7 Shoes. 


17 Both. 


26 More. 


8 Shred. 


18 Lon?. , 


27 Flocks. 


9 Went. 


19 Well. 


28 Boys. 


10 Got 







ROBERT BURNS. ZW 

Should think they better were inform'd 

Than their auld daddies. 

7. 
Frae less to mair it gaed* to sticks ; 
Frae words an' aiths^ to clours^ an' nicks ; 
An' monie"* a fallow gat his licks, 

Wi' hearty crunt ;' 
An' some, to learn them for their tricks, 

Were hang'd an' brunt.^ 

8. 
This sjame was play'd in monie lands, 
An' aidd-lighf caddies bure^ sic hands, 
That faith, the youngsters took the sands 

Wi' nimble shanks, 
Till lairds forbade, by strict commands, 
Sic bluidy^ pranks. 

9. 
But new-light herds gat sic a cowe,^° 
Folk thought them ruin'd stick-an'stowe,^^ 
Till now amaist on ev'ry knovve^^ 

Ye'Il fine ane plac'd ; 
An' some, their new-light fair avo'.v, 

Just quite barefac'd. 

10. 
Nae doubt the aiddlight flocks are bleatin' j 
Their zealous herds are vex'd an' sweatin' 5 
Mysel,^^ I've even seen them o-reetin'^^ 
W^i' girnin'^^ spite, 
To hear the 7110012 sae sadly lie'd on 

By word an' write. 

11. 

But shortly they will cowe the louns !^^ 
Some auld-light herds in neebor*"^ towns 

1 Went. 6 Burnt. 12 Hillock. 

2 Oaths. 7 Old-light fellows. 13 Mvs If, 

3 Wounds and scars. 8 Bon* sucli. 14 Weeping. 

4 Many a tl:llow got. 9 IJioody. 15 Giiuning. 

5 Blow on the head 10 Humbling. 16 Worthless person^, 
with a cudgel. 11 Completely. IT Neighbour. 

O O 



290 THE POE'nCAL WORKS 0¥ 

Are mind't in things thy ca' balloons^ 
' To'tak^ a flight, 
An' stay a month amang the moons^ 

An' see them right. 

12. 

Guid' observation they will gie them ; 
An' when the auld moon^s gaun^ to lea'e them, 
The hindmost shaird,"* they'll fetch it wi' them, 

Just i' their pouch,' 
An' when the new-light billies^ see them, 
1 think they'll crouch ! 

13. 

Sae, ye observe that a' this clatter 
Is naething^ but a * moonshine matter ;' 
But tho' dull prose-folk Latin splatter^ 

In logic tulzie,^ 
I hope, we bardies ken^° some better 

Than mind sic brulzie/^ 

1 Take. 5 Pocket. 9 Quarrel. • 

2 Good, 6 Brothers. 10 Know. 

3 Going. 7 Nothii^. 11 BrawS, 
-i Shred. 8 Splutter. 



TO THE REV. JOHN M'MATH, 

Inclosing a copy of Holy Willie's Prayer, ivhich he had 
requested. 

September, 1785. 
1. 

WHILE at the stock ^ the shearers" cow'r 
To shun the bitter blaudin'^ show'r, 
Or in gulravage" rinnin* scovv'r 

To pass the time, 

1 A rick of corn. 4 Wrestling and romp- 5 Running and chasing, 

2 Reapers. ing. 

3 Slapping-. 



ROBERT BURNS. 391 

To you I dedicate the hour 

In idle rhyme. 

2. 
My musie, tir'd wi^^ mony a sonnet 
On gown, an' ban', an' douse^ black bonnet, 
Is grown, right eerie^ now she's done it. 

Lest they should blame her, 
An' rouse their holy thunder on it 

And anathem her. 

3. 
I own 'twas rash, an' rather hardy, 
That I, a simple countra'* bardie. 
Should meddle wi' a pack sae* sturdy, 

Wha,^ if they ken' me, 
Gan easy, vvi' a single wordie,* 

Louse' hell upon me. 

4. 
But I gae^° mad at their grimaces, 
Their sighan," cantan,^* grace-prood^^ faces, 
Their three-mile prayers, an' hauf ^^-mile graces^, 

Their raxan" conscience, 
Whase^^ greed, revenge, an' pride disgraces 

Waur" nor their nonsense. 

5. 
There's Gaun* miska't*' waur than a beast, 
Wha has mair*^ honor in his breast 
Than mony scores as guid's^° the priest 

Wha sae abus't him. 
An' may a bard no^^ crack his jest 

What way they've use't him. 



1 With many. 


8 Word. 


15 Stretchin! 


2 Grave. 


9 Let loose. 


16 Whose. 


S Timorous. 


10 Go. 


17 Worse. 


4 Country. 


11 Sighing. 


18 Bely'd. 


5 So. 


12 Canting. 


19 More. 


6 Who, 


13 Grace-proud. 


20 Good «s 


7 Know 


U Half mile. 
* Mr. Gavin Hamilton. 


21 Not. 



292 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

6. 
See him, the poor raan's friend in need, 
The s^entleman in word an' deed, 
An' shall his fame an' honor bleed 

By worthless skellums/ 
An' not a muse erect her head 

To cowe^ the blellums ?^ 

7. 

O Pope, had I thy satire's darts 
To gie"* the rascals their deserts, 
I'd rip their rotten, hallow hearts, 

An' tell aloud 
Their jugglin' hocus pocus arts 

To cheat the crowd* 

8. 
God knows, Fm no the thin[^ I shou'd be^ 
Nor am I even the thing 1 cou'd be, 
But twenty times, I rather wou'd be 

An atheist clean, 
Than under gospel colours hid be 

Just for a screen. 

9. 
An honest man may like a glass, 
An honest man may like a lass, 
But mean revenge, an' malice fause,*' 

He'll still disdain, 
An' then cry zeal for gospel laws, 

Like some we ken/' 

10. 
They take religion in their mouth ; 
They talk o' mercy, grace and truth, 
For what? to gie their malice skouth'' 

On some puir^ wight, 
An' hunt him down, o'er right an' ruth, 

To ruin streight. 



1 Fellows. 


4 Give. 


7 Room. 


3 Humble. 


5 False. 


S Poor. 


3 Idle talk-ers. 


6 Know. 





ROBERT BURNS. 

10. 
All hail, religion ! maid divine ! 
Pardon a muse sae mean as mine, 
Who in her rough imperfect line, 

Thus daurs^ to name thee 
To stigmatize false friends of thine 

Can ne'er defame thee, 

11. 

Tho' blotch't an' foul wi' mony a stain, 

An' far unworthy of thy train. 

With trembling: voice I tune mv strain 

To join with those, 
Who boldly dare thy cause maintain 

In spite of foes : 

12. 

In spite o' crowds, in spite o' mobs^ 
In spite of undermining jobs. 
In spite o' dark banditti stabs 

At worth an' merit, 
By scoundrels, even wi' holy robes, 

But hellish spirit. 

13. 
O Ayr, my dear, my native ground, 
Within thy presbytereal bound 
A candid lib'ral band is found 

Of public teachers, 
As men, as christians too, renown'd. 

An' manly preachers. 

14. 
Sir, in that circle you are nam'd ; 
Sir, in that circle you are fam'd ; 
An' some, by whom your doctrine's blam'd, 

(Which gies you honour) 
Even Sir, by them your heart's esteem'd, 

An' winning manner. 

1 Dares. 



\ 

294 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

15. 
Pardon this freedom I have ta'en, 
An' if impertinent I've been, 
Impute it not, good Sir, in ane^ 

Whase heart ne'er wrang'd^ ye,. 
But to his utmost would befriend 

Ought that belang'd' ye. 

1 One. 2 Wronged. 3 Belonged to. 



EPISTLE TO J. LAPRAIK, 

September 13th, 1785. 

1. 
GUID^ speed an'^ furder to you Johny, 
Guid heahh, hale^ hans an' weather bony ; 
Now when ye're nickan" down fu'* cany 

The staff o'^ bread, 
May ye ne'er want a stoup' o' brany 

To clear your head. 

2. 
May boreas never thresh your rigs,* 
Nor kick your rickles^ aff their legs, 
Sendin' the stuff o'er muirs" an' haggs 

Like drivin' wrack ;" 
But may the tapmast^^ grain that wags 

Come to the sack. 

3. 
Pm bizzie*^ too, an' skelpin'" at it. 
But bitter, daudin^* showers hae^^ wat it, 

1 Good. 7 Measure of brandy. 12 Topmost. 

2 And further. 8 Ridges. 13 Busy. 

3 Whole hands. 9 Ricks off". 14 Driving. 

4 Cutting. 10 Moors and pools. 15 Heavy. 

5 Full careful. 11 Wreck. 16 Has wet. 

6 Of. 



ROBERT BURNS. 9,95 

Sae* my auld*^ stumpie pen I gat^ it 

Wi'^ muckle wark, 
An' took my jocteleg* an' what« it, 

Like ony' dark. 

4. 
It's now twa^ month that I'm your debtor. 
For your braw,^ nameless, dateless letter, 
Abusin' me for harsh ill nature 

On holy men, 
While deil a hair yoursel" ye're better, 

But mair" profane. 

5. 
But let the kirk^^-folk ring their bells, 
Let's sing about our noble sels ; 
We'll cry nae^^ jads frae heathen hills 

To help, or roose" us, 
But browster" wives an' whiskie stills, 

They are the muses. 

6. 
Your friendship sir, I winna*^ quat it. 
An' if ye raak'' objections at it. 
Then han' in nieve" some day we'll knot it, 

An' witness take. 
An' when wi' Usquabae we've wat it 

It winna break. 

7. 
But if the beast and branks*^ be spar'd 
Till kye'° be gaun" without the herd, 
An' a'^^ the vittel" in the yard. 

Be theckit^'' right, 



1 So. 


9 Pine. 


17 Make. 


2 Old. 


10 Yourself. 


18 Hand in hand 


3 Got. 


11 More. 


19 Bridle. 


4 With much work. 


12 Chinch. 


20 Cattle. 


5 Folding knite. 


13 No jades from. 


21 Going. 


C Trimmed. 


U Exlol. 


22 All. 


7 Any. 


15 Brewing. 


23 Grain. 


8 Two. 


16 Will not quit. 


M Thatched. 



296 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

I mean your ingle^-side to guard 

Ae^ winter night. 

8. 
Then muse-inspirin' aqua-vitse 
Shall make us baith^ sae blythe an' witty, 
Till ye forget ye're auld an' gutty/ 

An' be as canty* 
As ye were nine year less than thretty,* 

Sweet ane an' twenty ! 

9. 
But stocks are cowpet' wi' the blast. 
An' now the sun* keeks in the west, 
Then I maun^ rin amang the rest 

An' quat my chanter ;" 
Sae I subscribe mysel in haste, 

Your's, Rab the Ranter.* 



1 Fire-side. 


5 Lively. 


8 Sui) peeps. 


2 One. 


6 Thirty. 


9 Must race amoug 


3 Both so. 


7 Tumbled. 


10 Singing. 


4 Gouty. 







* Sab the Ranter. — It is very probable that the poet thus named himsclt 
after the Border Piper, spiritedly introduced in the popular song of Maggie 
Lauder : 

"For I'm a piper to my trade, 

My name is Rab the Ranter ,- 

The lasses loup as they were-daft, 

When I l)law up my chanter." 



EPISTLE 

TO A YOUNG FRIEND.* 

May 1785. 

1. 
I LANG^ hae thought, my youthfu'^ Friend, 
A something to have sent you, 

1 Long have. 2 Youthful. 

• Mr. Andrew H, Aiken, now of Liverpool, eldest son of Mr. Robert Aiken^ 
Attorney, Ayr, the particular friend of Burns. 



ROBERT BURNS. «(*«' 9.97 

Tho' it should serve nae^ other end 

Than just a kind me?nento ; 
But how the subject-theme may gang,^ 

Let time and chance determine ; 
Perhaps it may turn out a sang," 

Perhaps turn out a sermon. 

2. 
Ye'll try the world soon, my lad, 

And, Andreiv dear, believe me, 
Ye'll find mankind an unco'* squad. 

And muckle* they may grieve ye : 
For care and trouble set your thought, 

E'en when your end's attained ; 
And a'^ your views may come to nought. 

Where ev'ry nerve is strained. 

3. 
Pll no' say, men are villains a' ; 

The real, harden'd wicked, 
Wha^ hae nae check but human law, 

Are to a few restricked : 
But, och,^ mankind are unco^° weak, 

An' little to be trusted ; 
If 5<?^the wavering balance shake, 

It's rarely right adjusted ! 

4, 
Yet they wha fa'" in fortune's strife, 

Their fate we should na censure. 
For still th' important end of life, 

They equally may answer ; 
A man may hae an honest heart, 

Tho' poortith'2 hourly stare him ; 
A man may tak" a neebor's" part, 

Yet hae nae cash to spare him. 

1 No. 6 All. 11 Fall. 

2 Go. 7 Not. 12 Poverty. 

3 Song. 8 Who have. 13 Take. 

4 Surprising crew. 9 Oh. U Neighbours. 

5 Much. 10 Very, 



29* THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

5. 
Ay^ free, afF^' han' your story tell, 

When \vi' ? bosom crony ;^ 
But still keep somethini^ to yoursel* 

Ye scarcely tell to ony/ 
Conceal yoursel as° weel's ye can 

Frae'' critical dissection ; 
But keek' thro' ev'ry other man 

Wi' sharpen'd sly inspection. 

6. 
The sacred lowe^ o' weel-plac'd love, 

Luxuriantly indulge it ; 
But never tempt th' illicit rove^ 

Tho' naething'" should divulge it: 
I wave the quantom o' the sin, 

The hazard of concealing ; 
But och ! it hardens a' within, 

And petrifies the feeling ! 

7. 

To catch dame Fortune's golden smile, 

Assiduous wait upon her ; 
And gather gear" by ev'ry wile 

That's justified by honour ; 
Not for to hide it in a hedge, 

Nor for a train-attendant ; 
But for the glorious privilege 

Of being independent. 

8. 
The fear o' hell's a hangman's whip 

To hand'* the wretch in order ; 
But where ye feel your honour grip, 

Let that ay be your border ; 
Its slightest touches, instant pause — 

Debar a' side pretences ; 

1 Always. 5 Any. 9 Flame. 

QOfFhand, 6 Well as. 10 Nothing. 

3 Friend. 7 Fiom. 11 Wealth. 

4 YoarBel.f 8 Peep. J2 Hold. 



ROBERT BURNa 599 

And resolutely keep its laws, 
Uncaring consequences. 

9. 

The great Creator to revere, 

Mubt sure become the creature ; 
But still the preaching cant forbear, 

And e'en the rigid feature : 
Yet ne'er with wits profane to range, 

Be complaisance extended ; 
An Atheist's laugh's a poor exchange 

For Deity offended ! 

10. 
When ranting round in pleasure's ring. 

Religion may be blinded ; 
Or if she gie^ a random sting , 

It may be little minded ; 
But when on life we're tempest driv'n, 

A conscience but a canker — 
A correspondence fix'd wi' Heav'n, 

Is sure a noble anchor ! 

IL 

Adieu, dear, amiable youth ! 

Your heart can ne'er be wanting I 
May prudence, fortitude, and truth, 

Erect your brow undaunting ! 
In ploughman phrase, * God send you speed,' 

Still daily to grow wiser ! 
And may you better reck^ the 7'ede^ 

Than ever did th' adviser ! 

1 Givp. 2 Heed the oo'insel. 



3(m THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

TO GAVIN HAMILTON, ESQ 

MAUCHLINE, 
(Recommending a boy.) 

Mosgaville, May 3, 1786 

1. 
I HOLD it, Sir, my bounden duty 
To warn you how that Master Tootie, 

Alias Laird M^Gaun,* 
Was here to hire yon lad away 
'Bout whom ye spak^ the tither^ day, 

An'^ wad hae don't aflf han' : 
But lest he learn the callan** tricks, 

As faith I muekle^ doubt him, 
Like scrapin' out auld^ Crummie's nicks, 
An' tellin' hes about them ; 
As lieve then I'd have then, 

Your clerkship he should sair,^ . 
If sae^ be, ye may be 
Not fitted otherwhere. 

2. 

Altho' I say't, he's gleg^ eneugh, 
An' bout a house that's rude an' rough. 

The boy might learn to swear 
But then wi' you^ he'll be sae taught, 
An' get sic^° fair example straught," 

I hae^^ na ony fear. 



1 Spoke, 5 Much. 


9 Sharp enough, 


2 Other. 6 The old cow. 


10 Such, 


3 And would have done 7 Serve. 


11 Straight. 


it oft' band. 8 So. 


12 Have not anj. 


4 Boy. 





• JMaster Tootie then lived in Mauchline: a dealer in Cows. It was his 
common practice to cut the nicks or markings from the horns of cattle, to dis- 
guir;« their age. — He was an artful, trick-contriving character; hence he is 
calied a Snick-dra-wer . In the Poet's "Address to the Deil" he styles tha' 
august personage an auld, nick-drawing dog ! 



'■ ROBERT BURNS. H* aol 

Ye'll catechise him every quirk, 

An' shore^ him weeP wi' hell ; 

An'' gar him follow to the hrk'* 

— Ay^ when ye gang® yourself 
If ye then, maun' be then 

Frae' hame this comin' Friday, 
Then please sir, to lea'e sir, 
The orders wi'^ your lady. 

3. 
My word of honor I hae^" gien, 
In Paisley John's that night at e'en, 

To meet the JVarld^s^^ warjji - 
To try to get the twa^^ to gree,^' 
An' name the airles" an' the fee. 

In legal mode an' forni: 
I ken" he weel a snic/c can draw, 

When simple bodies let him : 
An' if a Z)m/be at a','" 

In faith he's sure to get him. 
To phrase you an' praise you, 

Ye ken your Laureat scorns : 
The pray'r still, you share still. 
Of grateful Minstrel Burns. 



I Threaten. 


7 Must. 


12 Two. 


52 Well with. 


8 From home. 


13 Agree. 


3 And make. 


9 With. 


14 Earnest moitev 


4 Church. 


10 Have given. 


15 Know. 


5 Always. 


11 World. 


16 At all. 


6 Go voarself. 







EPISTLE TO J. RANKIN, 

ENCLOSING SOME POEMS- 

Mr. Rankin was a man of considerable parts and inforniatioii 
and remarkable for ready wit, which caused his company 
to be much coveted by many of his genteel neighbours 
^vith whom he was a frequent guest. But as he was con 



302 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

sidered no friend to religion, such as were piously inclin- 
ed, considered him a dangerous companion, and tlierefore 
shunned him. It happened in one of his visits, that the 
parish minister made one of the party, who was much 
pleased with his conversation. A.n intimacy ensued, in 
consequence, between them, and they frequently visited 
each other. This gave much offence to many of the parish- 
ioners ; but more particularly to John Hogg, a rigid ruling 
elder : who took it upon him to reprove his pastor with 
great severity, for associating with so vile a reprobate; and 
moreover, threatened to arraign him before the presbytery, 
Tinless he abandoned his company in future. This coming 
to Mr. Rankin's ears, he vowed vengeance. Accordingly 
it happened that shortly afterwards, Mr. Hogg went past 
Mr. Rankin's house, ou some business of the church ses- 
sion, which required him to walk several miles into the 
country. The day having turned out very stormy, Mr. 
Rankin watched for the return of the old man, and very 
politely asked him how he did, and expressed his sorrow, 
to see an old gentleman exposed to such a storm; all which 
condolement he ended by a pressing request, that Mr, Hogg- 
would honour him with his company at dinner. The ruling 
older exhausted by a long walk in a rough road, amid "the 
pelting of the pitiless storm," forgot the reprobate, and 
thought only of the man, who felt for his age and weari- 
ness. He accepted the invitation, and found reason to con- 
gratulate himself on the goodness of the dinner, and the 
urbanity of his host. After the cloth was removed, Mr. 
Rankin ordered punch, observing, that he made a practice 
of taking a little warm whiskey-punch always after din- 
ner ; he hoped therefore, that as the day was cold and 
stormy, Mr. Hogg would partake with him, especially as 
there was plenty of water, (pointing to a tea-kettle, which 
he had privately filled with whiskey,) by which means Mr. 
Hogg might make it to his taste. There was a frankness 
about Mr. Rankin, which not even John Hogg could resist, 
apd he assented to the will of his host. The bowl was 
placed on the table, the ruling elder was desired to taste 
it, and he, as Mr. R. expected, pronounced it too strong. 
An immediate addition of the pretended water was made 
from the kettle, which, to assist the deception, was satu- 
rated with sugar. Honest John was little acquainted with 
punch, and as the libations from the kettle made it sweeter, 
he thought they made it weaker ; therefore after a few ad- 
ditions, he expressed himself satisfied. The event may be 
predicted. His previous fatigue seconded the power of the 
whiskey, and in a short time the wicked wit saw this pil- 
lar of the church extended on his carpet. Mr. R. imme- 



ROBERT BURNS. 303 

diately ordered his servants to bring a hand-barrow and a 
bundle of straw ; on which having placed the unconscious 
elder, he ordered him to be carried directly to the minis- 
ter's house, and left in his parlour. The order was faith- 
fully executed. The minister being informed by his ser- 
vants that Mr. Hogg was below, went down to see liim, 
and was well nigh petrified, when he found his unsparing 
Mentor lying dead-drunk on a parcel of straw. However, 
he thought it best not to disturb the old man's repose. 
After some tinze Mr. Hogg awoke and looked wildly 
around, unable to conjecture where he was, or m hat brought 
him there. The minister perceiving him to be awake, be- 
gan ; " Why Mr. Hogg, is it possible that this can be you ?'• 
" Indeed it's me. Sir," answered John, quite crest-fallen. 
" Well," replied the minister, " this is the most extraor- 
dinary ihing, I have met with in the whole course of my 
ministry, that a man of so great experience, and of such 
high standing in the church, should sutFer himself to be so 
grossly overtaken. I am sorry that it becomes my painful 
duty to lay this business before the presbytery." " Hush 
hush ! sir," exclaimed the terrified elder, " we a' hae our 
ain failings, sir ; I'se make a bairn's bargain wi' you, sir; 
say ye naething anent me before the presbytery, and T'se 
say as little anent ?/oi<." The bargain was kept ; and the 
minister enjoyed the occasional company of Mr. Rankin 
unmolested. 



1. 
O ROUGH, rude, ready-witted Rankin, 
The wale* o' cocks for fun an drinkin' ! 
There's mony^ godly folks are thinkin', 

Your dreams^ an' tricks 
Will send you, Korah like, a sinkin', 

Straueht^ to auld" Nick^s. 



\ 



Ye hae* so monie cracks an' cants, 
And in your wicked, drucken^ rants, 

1 Choice of fellows. 3 Strsiglit. 5 Have so many stories. 

il Many. 4, Old. 6 Drunken. 

• A certain huraourous dream cf l>is was then maki'ng a noise in llir; cour.- 
try-side. 



304 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

Ye mak* a d — ^1 o' the saunts,* 

An' fill them fou f 

And then their failings, flaws, an' wants. 
Are a'* seen thro'. 

3. 

Hypocrisy, in mercy spare it ! 
That holy robe, O dinna* tear it ! 
Spare't for their sakes wha*^ aften wear it, 

The lads in black ! 
But your curst wit, when it comes near it, 

Rives'l aff"^ their back. 

4. 
Think, wicked sinner, wha ye're skaithing,* 
It's just the hlue-goxvn^ badge an' claithing^** 
O'^^ saunts ; tak^^ that, ye lea'e them naething^' 

To ken^"* them by, 
Frae" ony unregenerate heathen 
Like you or I. 

5. 
I've sent you here some rhyming ware, 
A' that I bargain'd for, an' mair ;" 
Sae, when ye hae an hour to spare, . 

I will expect 
Yon sang^^ ye'U sen't" wi' cannie" care, 
And no*^ neglect. 

6. 
Tho' faith, sma'^° heart hae I to sing ! 
My muse dow^^ scarcely spread her wing ! 
I've play'd myseP^ a bonnie spring. 

An' danc'd my fill ! 

1 Make. 9 See glossary. 16 More. 

2 Saints. 10 Cloathing. 17 Send it. 

3 Drunk. 11 Of. 18 Kindly care. 

4 All. 12 Take. 19 Not. 

5 Do not. 13 Nothing. 20 Small. 

6 Who often. 14 Know. 21 Can. 

7 Off. 15 From any. 22 Myself. 

8 Harming. 

• A song he had promised to the author- 



ROBERT BURNS. 305 

Pd better gaen* an' sair'd^ the kino^ 
At Bunker's Hill 

7. 

'Twas ae^ night lately in my fun, 
I gaed'' a roving vvi'* the gun, 
An' brought a paitrick^ to the grun,' 

A bonnie hen ; 
And, as the twilight was begun, 

Thought nane* wad ken. 

8. 
The poor wee^ thing was little hurt ; 
I straikit it a wee for sport, 
Ne'er thinkin' they wad fa^h*° me for't ; 

But, deil-ma-care I 
Somebody tells the poacher ~^ourt 

The hale" affair. 

9. 
Some auld'* us'd hands had ta'en a note. 
That sic^^ a hen had got a shot ; 
I was suspected for the plot ; 

I scorn'd to lie ; 
So gat** the whissle" o' my groat, 

An' pay't \S\tfee. 

10. 
But, by my gun, o' guns the wale, 
An' by my pouther*® an' my hail, 
An' by my hen, an' by her tail, 

I vow an' swear ! 
The game shall pay o'er moor an' dale, 
For this, niest" year. 

11. 

As soon's the clockin'-time is by, 
An' the wee pouts begun to cry, 



1 Gone. 


7 Ground. 


13 Such. 


2 Served. 


8 None would know . 


14 Got. 


3 One. 


9 Little. 


15 Change ot 


4 Went. 


10 Trouble. 


16 Powder. 


5 With. 


U Whole. 


17 Next. 


R Partridge. 


12 Old. 





<19 



sab THE POETICAL WORKS 0* 

L — d, Fse hae sportin' by an' by, 

For my gowd* guinea r 

Tho' I should herd the buckskin kye* 
For't, in Virginia. 

12. 

Trowth, they had muckle^ for to blame I 
'Tvvas neither broken wing nor limb, 
But twa-three draps about the wame 

Scarce thro' the feathers ; 
An' baith* a yellow George to claim, 

An' thole* their blethers -J' 

13. 

It pits me ay'' as mad's a hare ; 
So I can rhyme nor write nae' mair ; 
But pennyworths again is fair, 

When time's expedient : 
Meanwhile I am, respected Sir, 

Your most obedient. 



1 Gold. 


4 Botli. 


7 Always. 


ii ChUIc. 


5 Bear. 


8 No more. 


5 Much. 


6 Nonsensical talk. 





WRITTEN 

On the blank leaf of a copy of the Poems presented to an Old 
Siueetheart, then married.* 

1. 
ONCE fondly lov'd, and still remember'd dear, 

Svveet early object of my youthful vows, 
Accept this mark of friendship, warm sincere. 

Friendship I 'tis all cold duty now allows. — 

* The " snpct soirsie lass," who fust caused the poet to commit the sin of 
.•hvmi-s 



ROBERT BURNS. ^507 



2. 
And when you read the simple artless rhymes, 

One friendly sigh for him, he asks no more, 
Who distant burns in flaming torrid climes, 

Or haply lies beneath th' Atlantic roar. 



ANSWER TO 

A TRIMMING EPISTLE 

FROM 

ALEXANDER TAIT, A TAYLOR. 

1. 

WHAT ails ye now, ye lousie b h. 

To thresh my back at sic^ a pitch ? 
Losh' man ! hae^ mercy wi'"* your natch,* 

Your bodkin's bauld,^ 
I did na^ suffer ha-f sae^ much 

Frae* Daddie Auld. 

2. 
What tho' at times when I grow crouse," 
I gie^^ their wames'^ a random pouse," 
Is that enough for you to sousfi^"* 

Your servant sae ? 
Gae" mind your seam, ye prick the louse, 

An''' jag the flea." 

3. 
King David o"' poetic brief, 
Wrought 'mang'^ the lasses sic mischiei 



1 Such. 


8 So. 


14 Attaci with violence 


2 Minced oath. 


9 From.; 


15 Go. 


3 Have. 


10 Brisk. 


16 Anii pierce. 


4 With. 


11 Give. 


17 Flea. 


5 Gripe. 


12 Bellies. 


18 Of. 


6 Bold. 


13 Push. 


19 Among. 


7 Not. 







30^ rHt POETICAL WORKS OF 

As fill'd his after life wi^ grief 

And bloody rants, 
An' yet he's rank'd amang the chief 

O'^ lang syne saunts. 

4. 
And maybe, Tam, for a' my cants,^ 
My wicked rhymes, and drucken^ rants, 
ril gie auld" cloven Clooty's* haunts 

An unco° slip yet, 
An' snugly sit amang the jaunts, 

At Davie's hip yet. 

5. 
But fegs,' the Session says I maun* 
Gae fa'^ upon anither plan. 
Than garren^° lasses cowp" the cran^^ 

Clean heels owre" body. 
And sairly" thole their mither's" ban, 

Afore ^^ the howdy. 

6. 
This leads me on, to tell for sport, 
How I did wi' the Session sort — 
Auld Clinkum" at the Inner port 

Cry'd three times, " Robbin !'' 
*' Come hither lad, an' answer for't, 

" Ye're blam'd for jobbin'." 

7. 

Wi' pinch I put a Surfday's face on, 
An' snoov'd^' awa' before the Session— 
I made an open fair confession, 

I scorn'd to lie ; 
An' syne^^ Mess John, beyond expression, 

Fell foul o' me. 

i Of ancient saints. 9 Fall upon another. 14 Sorely hear. 

2 Lively songs. 10 Forciog. 15 Mother's impreca> 

ti Drunken. 11 Overturn. tion. 

4 Old. 12 An instrument to 16 B( fore the surgeon. 

5 Satan's. support a pot or ket- 17 Bellman. 

6 Surprising. tie on the fire. 18 Sneaked away, 

7 Mince oath. 13 Over^ 19 Then. 
S Must. 



ROBERT BURNS. 309 

8. 
A fornicator loun^ he call'd me, 
An' said my fau't^ frae bliss expell'd me ; 
I own'd the tale was true he tellM^ me, 

' But what the matter,' 
Quo' I, ' I fear unless ye geld me, 

' I'll ne'er be better.' 

9. 
" Geld you !" quo' he, " and whatfore* no, 
** If that your right hand, leg or toe, 
*' Should ever prove your sp'ritual foe, 

" You shou'd remember 
** To cut it aff,* and whatfore no 

" Your dearest member." 

10. 

' Na, na,' quo' I, ' I'm no for that, 

* Gelding's nae better than 'tis ca't,® 
' I'd rather suffer for my faut, 

' A'hearty flewit,^ 
' As sair^ owre hip as ye can draw't ! 

* Tho' I should rue it. 

11. 

' Or gin^ ye like to end the bother, 

* To please us a',^° I've just ae" ither, 

' When next v/i' yon lass I forgather," 

* Whate'er betide it, 

* I'll frankly gie^^ her't a' thegither,"* 

* An' let her guide it.' 

12. 
But, Sir, this pleased them warst^* ava, 
An' therefore, Tarn, when that I saw, 



1 Fellow. 


6 Cairo. 


11 One other. 


2 Fault from. 


7 Blow. 


12 Meet. 


3 Told. 


8 Sore over. 


13 Giv.-. 


4 Wherefore not. 


9 If. 


14 Altogether. 


5 Off. 


10 All. 


15 Worst of all. 



310 IHE POETICAL WORKS 0¥ 

I said, * Gude* night/ and cam^ awa', 

And left the Session ;- 

I saw they were resolved a' 

On my oppression. 

1 Good night. , 2 Came awavv 



A DEDICATION 

TO GAVIN HAMILTON, ESQ. 

EXPECT na/ Sir, in this narration, 
A fleechin,^ flethrin,^ dedication. 
To rooze^ you up, an'* ca' you guid,^ 
An'^ sprung o" great an' noble bluid,^ 
Because ye're surnam'd like his grace, 
Perhaps related to the race ; 
Then when Pm tirM — and sae*" are zfe, 
Wi' mony" a fulsome, sinfu^" lie. 
Set up a face, how I stop short. 
For fear your modesty be hurt. 

This may do — maun" do, Sir, wi' them wha*^ 
Maun please the great folk for a wamefou ;" 
For me ! sae laigh'^ I needna" bow, 
For, Lord be thankit,^* I can plough: 
And when I downa" yoke a naig," 
Then, Lord be thankit, / can beg ; 
Sae I shall say, an' that's nae*^ flatt'rin', 
Its just sic^^ poet an' sic patron* 

1 Not. 

2 Supplicating. 

3 Flattering. 

4 Praise. 

5 And call. 

6 Good. 

7 And. 

8 Of. 



9 Blood. 


15 So low. 


10 So. 


17 Need not, 


11 With many. 


18 Thanked. 


12 Sinful. 


19 Cannot. 


13 Must. 


20 Horse. 


14 Who. 


21 No. 


15 Belly-full, 


'22 Such. 



y, ROBERT BURNS. 311 

The Poet, some guid* angel help him, 
Or else, I fear some ill ane^ skelp^ him, 
He may do weel"* for a" he's done yet, 
But only he's no just begun yet. 
The Patron, (Sir, ye maun forgie* me, 
I winna^lie, come what will o' me,) 
On ev'ry hand it will allowed be, 
He's just — nae better than he should be. 

I readily and freely grant, 
He dovvna^ see a poor man want ; 
What's no^ his ain" he winna tak" it, 
What ance^^ he says he winna break it ; 
Ought he can lend he'll no refus't, 
Till aft" his guidness" is abus'd ; 
And rascals whyles that do him wrang,^^ 
Ev'n that^ he does na mind it lang:^^ 
As master, landlord, husband, father, 
He does not fail his part in either. 

But then, nae thanks to him for a' that ; 
Nae godly symptom ye can ca' that ; 
It's naething^' but a milder feature. 
Of our poor, sinfu'^^ corrupt nature : 
Ye'll get the best o.^ moral works, 
'Mang black Gentoos and pagan Turks, 
Or hunters wild on Ponotaxi, 
Wha never heard of orthodoxy. 
That he's the poor man's friend in need; 
^HhQ gentleman in word and deed, 
It's no thro' terror of d~mn-tion i 
It's just a carnal inclination. 

Morality, thou deadly bane. 
Thy tens o' thousands thov hast slain ! 
Vain is his hope, whose stay and trust is 
In moral mercy, truth, and justice ! 



1 Good. 


7 Will not., 


13 Oft. 


fi One. 


8 Cannot. ' 


14 Goodness 


3 Beat. 


9 Not. 


15 Wrong. 


4 Well. 


10 Own. 


16 Long. 


5 AH. 


11 Take. 


17 Nothinn-. 


fi l^orgive. 


\'1 Once 


■ IS Sinfnl." 



312 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

No — stretch a point to catch a plack ;* 
Abuse a brother to his back ; 
Steal thro' a xvinnock^ frae^ a wh-re, 
But point the rake that taks the door: 
Be to the poor hke onie"* whunstane, 
And haud* their noses to the grunstane f 
Ply ev'ry art o' legal thieving ; 
No matter, stick to sound believing. 

Learn three-mile pray'rs, an' half-mile graces, 
Wi' weel-spread looves,'' an' lang wry faces ; 
Grunt up a solemn, lengthen'd groan, 
And d — n a' parties but your ovvn ; 
I'll warrant then, ye're nae deceiver, 
A steady, sturdy, staunch believer. 

O ye wha leave the springs of C-lv—jt, 
For gumlie* dubs of your ain delvin' ! 
Ye sons of heresy and error, 
Ye'll some day squeel in quaking terror ! 
When vengeance draws the sword in wrath, 
And in the fire throws the sheath ; 
When ruin, with his sweeping besom^ 
Just frets till Heav'n commission gies' him : 
While o'er the harp pale mis'ry moans, 
And strikes the ever-deep'ning tones, 
Still louder shrieks, and heavier groans ! 

Your pardon. Sir, for this digression, 
I maist^° forgat my dedication ; 
But when divinity comes 'cross me, 
My readers still are sure to lose me. 

So, Sir, ye see, 'twas nae daft*^ vapour. 
But I maturely thought it propel, 
When a' my works T did review, 
To dedicate them, Sir, to You : 

1 A piece of money. 5 Hold. 9 Gives. 

2 Window. 6 Gnnd atone. 10 Almost forgot 

3 From. 7 Palms of the hands. 11 Delirious. 

4 Any ragstope. 8 Muddy pools. 



ROBERT BURNS. Sli 

Because (ye need na tak it ill) 

I thought them something like yoursel.* 

Then patronise them wi' your favour. 
And your petitioner shall ever — 
1 had amaist said, ever pray ^ 
But that's a word I need na say : 
For prayin' I hae little skill o't ; 
I'm baith^ dead-sweer,^ an' wretched ill o't ; 
But Pse repeat each poor man's />rayV, 
That kens" or hears about you, Sir — 

* May ne'er misfortune's gowling* bark, 
' Howl thro' the dwelling o' the Clerk ! 

* May ne'er his gen'rous honest heart, 

* For that same gen'rous spirit smart 1 

* May Kennedy's* far honour'd name 
' Lang^ beet his hymeneal flame, 

' Till Hamiltons, at least a dizen," 

* Are frae their nuptial labours risen ; 
' Five bonnie lasses round their table, 

* And seven braw^ fellows, stout an' able 

* To serve their king an' country weel, 

* By word, or pen, or pointed steel I 

* May health and peace, with mutual rays, 

* Shine on the evening o' his days ; 

* Till his wee^ curlie John^s ier oe,^° 

* When ebbing life nae^^ mair shall flow, 

* The last, sad, mournful rites bestow 1' 

I will not wind a lang conclusion, 
Wi' complementary effusion : 
B it whilst your wishes and endeavours 
Are blest with fortune's smiles and favours, 
I am, dear Sir, with zeal most fervent, 
Your much indebted, humble servant. 

1 Yourself. 5 Threatening, 9 Little. 

2 Both. 6 Long feed. 10 Greatgrandchild. 
.3 Extremly lazy. 7 Dozen. 11 No more. 

i Knows. 8 Brave. 

* Kennedy was the maiden name of Mrs. Hamilton. 
R r 



3M THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

But if (which Povv'rs above prevent !) 
That iron-hearted carl,^ IFanty 
Attended in his grim advances, 
By sad mistakes, and black mischances, 
While hopes, and joys, and pleasures, fly him,, 
Make you as poor a dog as I am, 
Your humble sei-vant then no more ; 
For who would humbly serve the poor 1 
But by a poor man's hopes in Heaven ! 
While recollection's pow'r is giv'n, 
If, in the vale of humble life, 
The victim sad of fortune's strife, 
I, thro' the tender gushing tear. 
Should recognize my master dea)\ 
If friendless, low, we meet together. 
Then, Sir, your hand — myy/'zVwf/ and brother ! 



1 Fellow. 



LErrER TO JOHN GOUDIE. 

KILMARNOCK. 

ON THE PUBLICATION OF HIS ESSAYS. 

Mr John Goudie, of Kilmarnock, was a man of the most in- 
offensive manners, and unblemished life. Of a cool tempera- 
ment and contemplative habits, his vh'tue seemed the spon- 
taneous growth of his nature; but|in his speculations, he car- 
ried more sail than ballast; and the consequence was, that 
he exhibited the sad picture of a weak and amiable mind 
bending beneath a load of ill-digested, and abstract no- 
tions which it could not support. With a very limited 
education and partial view of things, he fancied himself a 
second Hobbes ; and with the unacknowledged assistance 
of a sceptical friend, he wrote and published six massy 
volumes, filled with the wildest reviews that ever issued 
from the deistical school. The friends of his hypothesis, 
if that may be called hypothesis, which opposes all schemes 
and supposes nothing, praised him for his intentions, but 



ROBERT BURNS. 315 

1 believe no one ever had perseverence enough to read his 
work. This epistle of Burns, appears to have been written 
shortly after the publication of his cogitations ; and must 
have been very gratifying to the vanity of this would -be - 
philosopher. He had read some popular works on astro- 
nomy, and this subject became his hobby-horse. He was 
so fond of shewing to every one with whom he happened 
to have any conversation, his intimacy with the celestial 
regions, that he generally went under the appellation of 
Philosopher John. 



1. 

GOUDIE ! terror o'' the Whigs, 
Dread o' black coats and revVend wigs, 
Soor^ bigotry, on her last legs, 

Girnin^ looks back, 
Wishin' the ten Egyptian plagues 

Wad'* seize you quick. 

2. 
Poor gapin', glowrin* superstition, 
Waes^ me ! she's in a sad condition ; 
Fy, bring Black-Jock,* her state physician, 

To see her w-ter ; 
Alas ! there's ground o' 8;reat suspicion 

She'll ne'er get better. 

n. 

Auld^ Orthodoxy lang* did grapple, 

But now she's got an unco' ripple, 

Haste, gie'° her name up i' the chapej, ^ 

Nigh unto death ; 
See how she fetches al the thrapple," 

An' gasps for breath. 

4. 
Enthusiasm's past redemption, 
Gaen^^ in a galloping consumption, 

1 Of. 5 Staring. 9 Uncommon hatchellin? 

2 Sour. 6 Woe is. 10 Give. 

3 Grinning, 7 Old. 11 Wind-pipe. 

4 Would. 8 Long. 12 Gone, 

• The Rev, J, Russell, Kilmarnock. 



316 THE POETICAL WORKS OB 

Not a' the quacks wi'^ a' their gumption,^ 
Will ever mend her. 

Her feeble pulse gies strong presumption, 

Death soon will end her. 

6. 

^Tis you and Taylor* are the chief, 
Wha^ are to blame for this mischief; 
But gin^ the Lord's ain* focks gat leave, 

A toom^ tar barrel 
An' twa' red peats would send relief. 

An' end the quarrel. 

1 WUh all. 4 If, 6 Empty. 

2 Knowledge. 5 Own folks got. 7 Two burning brands. 
:\ Who. 

• Dr. Taylor, of Norwich. 



LETTER TO JAMES TAIT, 



GLENCONNER. 

AULD'^ com'rade dear and brither^ sinner, 
How's a'^ the folk about Glenconner ; 
How do you this blae^ easdin wind, 
That's like to blaw* a body blind : 
For me my faculties are frozen. 
My dearest member nearly dozen'd :'' 
I've sent you here by Johnnie Simson, 
Twa^ sage philosophers to glimpse on : 
Smith, wi'^ his sympathetic feeling, 
An'^ Reid, to common sense appealing, 
Philosophers have fought an' wrangled, 
An' meikle^° Greek an' Latin mangled, 



I Old. 


5 Blosv. 


8 With. 


2 Bi-othei , 


6 Siupified. 


9 And. 


3 All. 


7 Two. 


10 Much 


4 Bleak 







ROBERT BURNS. 317 

Till wi' their logic-jargon tir'd, 
An' in the depth of science mir'd, 
To common sense they now appeal, 
What wives an' wabsters^ see an' feel : 
But, hark ye, friend, I charge you strictly, 
Peruse them an' return them quickly ; 
For now I'm grown sae^ cursed douse,^ 
I pray an' ponder butt"^ the house. 
My shins, my lane,* I there sit roastin'. 
Perusing Bunvan, Brown, and Boston ; 
Till by an' by, if I haud^ on, 
I'll grunt a real gospel groan : 
Already I begin to try it. 
To cast my een^ up like a pyet,^ 
When by the gun she tumbles o'er, 
Flutt'ring an' gasping in her gore : 
Sae shortly you shall see me bright, 
A burn'ng and a shining light. 

My heart-warm love to guid° auld Glen, 
The ace an' wale^° of honest men ; 
When bending down with auld grey hairs, 
Beneath the load of years and cares, 
May he who made him still support him. 
An' views beyond the grave comfort him. 
His worthy fam'ly far and near, 
God bless them a' wi' grace and gear. 

My auld school-fellow, preacher Willie, 
The manly tar, my mason billie,*^ 
An' Auchenbay, I wish him joy ; 
If he's a parent; lass or boy, 
May he be dad, and Meg the mither,'^ 
Just five -and -forty years thegither !" 
An' no*'' forgetting wabster Charlie, 
I'm tauld^* he offers very fairly. 

11 Brother. 

12 Mother. 

13 Together. 

14 Not. 

15 Tolil. 



1 Weavers. 


6 Hold. 


2 S». 


7 Eye3. 


3 Sober. 


8 Maj,'pie, 


4 Outer apartment. 


9 Good. 


fi Lone. 


10 Choice.] 



il8 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF 



An' L — d, remember singing Sannock, 

Wi' hale^-breeks, saxpence,^ an a bannock.' 

An' next, my auld acquaintance, Nancy, 

Since she is fitted to her fancy ; 

An' her kind stars hae'' airted till her, 

A guid* chiel wi' a pickle® siller. 

My kindest, best respects I sen' it, 

To cousin Ka^e an' sister Janet ; 

Tell them frae^ me, w i' chiel's^ be cautious, 

For, faith, they'll aiblins^ fin' them fashious :'° 

To grant a heart is fairly civil. 

But to grant a maidenhead's the devil !— - 

An' lastly, Jamie, for yoursel," 

May guardian angels tak*^ a spell, 

An' steer you seven miles south o' hell : 

But first, before you see heav'ns glory. 

May ye get mony^^ a merry story, 

Mony a laugh, and mony a drink. 

An' ay eneugh" o' needfu'^* clink. 

Now fare ye weel,^^ an' joy be wi' you, 
For my sake this I beg it o'^^ you. 
Assist poor Simson a' ye can, 
Ye'll fin^^ him just an honest man ; 
Sae I conclude and quat^^ my chanter,^" 
Your's, saint or sinner, 

> Rob the Ranter. 



1 Whol" breeches. 

2 SixpTice. 

3 Cake of bread. 

4 Has'lirected to. 

5 Good man. 

5 Hstnilfull of rooDCV. 
7 From. 



8 Young men. 

9 Perhaps find. 

10 TinabJesorae. 

11 Yourself. 

12 Take. 

13 Many. 

14 Enough. 



15 Needful money. 

16 Well. 

17 Of. 

18 Find. 

19 Quit. 

20 Musical pipe. 



ROBERT BURNS. 319 

TO MR. M'ADAM, 

OF CRAIGEN-GILLAN, 

In answer to an obliging letter he sent in the commencement 
of my poetic career. 

1. 
SIR, o'er a gill I gat' your card, 

I trow it made me proud ; 
See vvha^ tak's notice o" the bard ! 

I lap"* and cry'd fu'* loud. 

2. 

Now deil°-ma-care about the jaw/ 

The senseless, gawky^ million ; 
I'll cock my nose aboon^ them a'^" 

I'm roos'd" by Craigen-Gillan ! 

3. 
'Tvvas noble, Sir ; 'twas like yourse],^f 

To grant your high protection : 
A great man's smile ye ken^^ fu' well, 

Is ay*^ a blest infection.' 

4. 
Tho' by his* banes wha" in a tub 

Match'd Macedonian Sandy If 
On my ain'^ legs thro' dirt and dub," 

I independent stand ay. — — ■ 

5. 
And when those legs to gude/^ warm kaiV^ 
Wi'^" welcome canna^' bear me ; 



I Got. 


8 Foorish. 




15 Who. 


2 Who takes. 


9 Above. 




16 Own, 


.'5 Of. 


10 All. 




17 Gutter. 


4 Leaped. 


U Praised. 




18 Good. 


5 Full. 


12 Yourself. 




19 Broth made of green 


6 No matter. 


13 Know. 




20 With, 


" Course raillery. 


14 Always. 




21 Cannot. 


• Diogenus 




t 


.'UexHudpr the Gre'^t 



i 



320 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

A lee dyke^-side, a sybow^-tail, 
A barley-scone' shall cheer me. 

6. 
Heaven spare you lang"* to kiss the breath 

O' mony* flow'ry simmers !^ 
And bless your bonnie lasses baith,' 

I'm tald^ they're loosome^ kimmers ! 

7. 
And God bless young Dunaskin's laird, Ij 

The blossom of our gentry ! 
And may he wear an auld^° man's beafd, 

A credit to his country. 

1 Dike-side. 5 Many. 8 Told, 

52 Young onion. 6 Summers. 9 Lovely young girls 

3 Cake. 7 Both. 10 Old. 

4 Long. 



TO CAPTAIN RIDDEL, 

GLENRIDDEL. 
(Extempore lines on returning a Newspaper.) 

Ellisland, Monday evening. 

1. 

Your news and review, Sir, I've read through and 

through, Sir, 
With little admiring or blaming : 
The papers are barren of home-news or foreign, 
No murders or rapes worth the naming. 

2. 
Our friends the reviewers, those chippers and hewers, 

Are j'ldges of mortar and stone, Sir ; 
But to meety or unmeet, in 2i fabric complete ^ 

I'll boldly pronounce they are none, Sir. 



ROBERT BURNS. 321 

3. 

My goose- quill too rude is to tell all your goodness, 

Bestowed on your servant, the poet ; 
Would to God I had one like a beam of the sun, 

And then all the world, Sir, should know it ! 



TO TERRAUGHTY* 

ON HIS BIRTH-DAY, 
1. 

HEALTH to the Maxwell's veteran chief! 
Health, ay^ unsour'd by care or grief: 
Inspired, 1 turn'd fate's sybil leaf, 

This natal morn, 
I see thy life is stuff o" prief. 

Scarce quite half worn.— 

2. 

This day thou metes^ threescore eleven, 
And I can tell that bounteous Heaven 
(The second sight, ye ken,* is given 
To ilka^ POET,) 
On thee a tack o' seven times seven 

Will yet bestow it. 

3. 

If envious buckles^ view wi" sorrow 
Thy lengthened days on this blest morrow, 
May desolation's lang'-teeth'd harrow, 

Nine miles an hour, 
Rake them, like Sodom and Gomorrah, 

In brunstane' stoure — 



1 Always. 


4 Know. 


7 With. 


2 Of proof. 


5 Every. 


8 Long. 


3 Measures. 


6 Fellows. 


9 Brimstone spray 



• Mr. Maxwell, of Terraughty, near Damfries. 
S S 



322 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

4. 

But for thy friends, and they are mony/ 
Baith^ honest men and lasses bonnie, 
May couthie^ fortune, kind an' cannie,* 

In social p^lee, 
Wi' mornings blythe and e'enings funny 

Bless them and thee ! 

5. 

Farevveel,' auld birkie I Lord be near ye, 
And then the Deil he daur^ na steer ye : 
Your friends ay love, your faes^ ay fear ye : 

For me, shame fa'^ me, 
If neist" my heart I dinna" wear ye 

While Burns they ca'^^ me. 

1 Many. 5 Farewell old boy. 9 Next. 

2 Both. 6 Dare not injure. 10 Do not. 

3 Facetious. 7 Foes. 11 Call. 

4 Frugal. 8 Fall. 



TO A LADY, 

With a present of a pair of Drinking Glasses. 

1. 
FAIR empress of the poet's soul, 

And queen of poetesses ; 
Clarinda, take this little boon. 

This humble pair of glasses.— 

2. 

And fill them high with generous juice, 

As generous as your mind ; 
And pledge me in the generous toast — 

" The whole of human kind!^^ 

2. 
" To those who love us .'" — second fill ; 

But not to those whom we love ; 
Lest we love those who love not us ! — ^— 

A third — " to thee and me^ love P^ 



[ 



ROBERT BURNS. 323 

TO MISS LEWARS, 

With Beattie's Poems for a New Year's Gift: 
JANUARY 1, 1787. 

1. 

AGAIN the silent wheels of time 

Their annual round have driv'n, 
And you, tho' scarce in maiden prime, 

Are so much nearer heav'n. 

2. 
No gifts have I from Indian coasts 

The infant year to hail ; 
I send you more than India boasts ' 

In Edwin^s simple tale. 

3. 
Our Sex with guile and faithless love 

Is charg'd, perhaps too true ; 
But may, dear maid, each lover prove 

An Edwin still to you. 



THE 

. GUIDWIFE OF WAUCHOPE-HOUSB.* 

Addressed to Burns, February, 1787. 

MY canty,* witty, rhyming ploughman, 

I hafflins^ doubt it is na^ true, man. 

That ye between the stilts" was bred, 

Wi'* ploughmen schooled, wi' ploughmen fed. 

1 Merry. 3 Not, 5 With. 

2 Partly. 4 Plough handles. 

• This poem is introduced merely as a necessary prelude to the answer, and 
aould not with propriety be left out. Fi4. 



324 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

I doubt it sair,* ye've drawn your knowledge 
Either frae^ grammar school, or college. 
Guid^ troth, your saul'' and body baith* 
War'® better led, I'd gie' my ai'th, 

Than theirs who sup sour tu'lk and parritch,* 

An'^ bummil thn/ the single caritch.^° 

Whaever^^ heard the ploughman speak, 

Could lell gif'^ Homer was a Greek? 

He'd flee as soon upon a cudgel, 

As get a single line of Virgil. 

An' then sae" slee vou crack^'* your jokes i 

O'l^ Willie Pitt and Charlie Fox. I 

Our great men a'*® sae weel descrive, 

An' how to gar" the nation thrive, 

Ane'^ maist wad swear ye dwelt amang*' them, 

An' as ye saw them, sae ye sang them. 

But be ye ploughman, be ye peer, 

Yeare a funny blade I swear. 

An' tho' the cauld/° \ ill can bide, j 

Yet twenty-miles, an'^' mair, I'd ride, 1 

O'er moss, an' muir,^^ an' never grumble, 

Tho' my auld*^ yad shou'd gie^* a stumble, 

To crack a winter-night wi' thee, 

An' hear thy sangs^* an' sonnets slee. 

A guid^** saut herring, an' a cake 

Wi' sic" a chiel a feast wad^* make. 

I'd rather scour your reaming^^ yill, J 

Or eat o' cheese an' bread my fill, * 

Than wi' dull lairds on turtle dine, 

An' fertile^" at their wit an' wine, 

O, gif I kend" but whare^^ ye baide,^^^ 

I'd send to you a marled^* plaid ; 

1 Much. 12 If. 24 Give. 

2 From. 1.3 So sly. 25 Songs. 

3 Good truth. 14 Tell. 26 Go«)d salt. 

4 Soul. 15 Of. 27 S>.ch a man. 

5 B'.xh. IG Alt so well describe. 28 Would. 

6 Were. 17 M 'ke. 29 Foaming ale. 

7 Give my oath. 18 One almost would. 30 Wonder. 

8 Oat meal hasty pud- 19 Among. 31 Knew, 
ding. 20 Cold. 32 Where. 

9 And drone. 21 And more. 33 Dwell. 
10 Catecltism. 22 Moor. 34 Varigated 

II Whoever. 23 Old horse. 



ROBERT BURNS. 225, 

'Twad baud* your shoulders warm and braw,^ 
An' douse* at kirk/ or market shavv.' 
Far south, as weel^ as north, my lad, 
A'^ honest Scotsman lo'e' the maivd^ 
Ri_8:ht wae" that we're sae far frae^^ ither; 
Yet proud I ara to ca'^^ ye brither." 

Your most obed. E, S.* 



I Keep. 


6 Well. 


10 Sorry. 


2 Handsome. 


7 All. 


11 From each othet-. 


3 Decent. 


8 Love. 


12 Call, 


4 Church. 


9 Plaid. 


18 Brother. 


5 Shew. 







* Mrs. Elizabeth Scot. 



THE ANSWER. 



GUIDWIFE, 

I MIND it weeP in early date, 

When I was beardless young an' blate,^ 

An' first cou'd thresh the barn, 
Or hand* a yokin' at the pleugh,* 
An' tho' for foughten* sair eneugh 

Yet unco^ proud to learn. 

When first amang' the yellow corn 

A man I reckon'd was ; 
An' with the lave' ilk^ merry morn 
Could rank my rig^° and lass ; 
Still shearing'^ and clearing 
The tither^^ stocked^* raw; 
Wi' claivers^" and haivers'* 
Wearing the time awa' :*° 



1 Well. 


6 Very. 


12 0«her. 


2 And bashful. 


7 Among. 


13 A row ofahockJ. 


3 Hold. 


8 R. St. 


14 Thouglitless talk 


4 Plough. 


9 Every. 


15 Incoherent talk. 


5 Harassed sore 


10 Ridge of oats. 


16 Away. 


enough. 


11 Reapinjj 





326 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

Ev'n then, a wish (I mind it's power) 
A wish, that to my latest hour 

Shall strongly heave my breast, 
That I for poor auld^ Scotland's sake 
Some useful plan or book could make, 

Or sing a sang^ at least. 

The rough bur-thistle^ spreading wide 

Amang" the bearded bear,* 
I turn'd my weeding heuk® aside, 
An' spar'd the symbol dear. 
No nation, no station 
My envy e'er could raise ; 
A Scot still, but blot still, 
I knew no higher praise. 

But still the elements o' sang 

In formless jumble, right an' wrang,' 

Wild floated in my brain. 
Till on that hairst^ I said before, 
My partner in the merry core, 

She rous'd the forming strain. 

I see her yet, the sonsy" quean, 

That lighted up my jingle ; 
Her pauk'y" smile, her kittle" een, 
That gart^^ my heart-strings tingle. 
So tiched,^^ bewitched, 
I ravfd aye to mysel ;" 
But bashing" and dashing, 
I kend^^ na how to tell. 

Hale" to the set, ilk guid" chiel says, 
Wi'^^ merry dance in winter-days, 
An' we to share in common : 



1 Old. 8 Harvest. 14 Myself. 

2 Song. 9 Engaging young wo- 15 Bowing. 

3 Spear-tMstlc. man 16 Kivw not. 

4 Among. 10 Artful. 17 Hail. 

5 Barley. H EniJcing eyes. 18 Good man. 

6 Hook. 12 Made. 19 With, 

7 Wrong. 13 Tied, 



ROBERT BURNS. 327 



The gust o' joy, the balm of woe, 
The saul' o' life, the heav'n below, 
Is rapture- giving woman. 

Ye surlv^ sumphs, who hate the name, 

Be' mindfu' o' your mither :^ 
She, honest woman, may think shame 
That ye're connected with her. 

Ye're wae* men, ye're nae* men, 
That slight the lovely dears : 
To shame ye, disclaim ye, 
Ilk honest birkie^ swears. 

For you, na' bredins to barn and byre,' 
Wha^ sweetly tune the Scottish lyre. 

Thanks to ye for your line. 
The marl'd plaid ye kindly spare, 
By me should gratefully be ware :^° 

'Twad" please me to the Nine. 



13 

IS 



I'd be mair vauntly^* o' my hap,^ 

Douse^'' hingin o'er my curple,^' 
Than ony^^ ermine ever lap," 
Or proud imperial purple. 

Farewell then, lang^* hale then, 
An' plenty be your fa' ;^^ 
May losses and crosses 
Ne'er at your hallan^'* ca', 

1 Soul. 8 Cow-stable. IS Crupper. 

2 Blunt fellow. 9 Who. 16 Any. 

3 Mother. 10 Worn. 17 Leaped. 

4 Sorrowful. 11 'Twould. 18 Long health. 

5 No. 12 Boastful. 19 Lot 

6 Clever fellows, 13 Covering. 20 Dwelling. 

7 Not. U Decently. 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF 



POETICAL ADDRESS 

TO 

MR. WM. TYTLER,* 

WITH THE PRESENT OP THE BARD'S PICTURE. 

Edinburgh, 1787. 

1. 
REVERED defender of beauteous Stuart, 

Of Stuart, a name once respected, 
A name which to love was the mark of a true heart, 

But now 'tis despised and neglected : 

2. 
Tho' something like moisture conglobes in my eye, 

Let no one misdeem me disloyal ; 
A poor friendless wand'rer may well claim a sigh, 

Still more, it that wand'rer were royal. 

3. 
My fathers, that name have rever'd on a throne ; 

My fathers have fallen to right it ; 
Those fathers would spurn their degenerate son, 

That name should he scoffingly slight it. 

4. 
Still in prayers for King George I most heartily join, 

The Queen and the rest of the gentry, 
Be they wise, be they foollish, is nothing of mine ; 

Their title 's avow'd by my countay 

5. 

But why of that epocha make such a fuss, 

************ 
************ 

* TytUr, of Woodhouselie, a man of celebrity for his scientific acquirements 
and fine taste, but particularly distinguished as an antiquarian. 



ROBERT BURNS. 329 

6. 
But loyalty truce ! we're on dangerous around, 

Who knows how the fashions mav alter. 
The doctrine, to-day, that is loyalty sound, 

To-morrow may bring us a halter. 

7. 
I send you a trifle, a head of a bard, 

A trifle scarce worthy your care ; 
But accept it, good sir, as a mark of regard, 

Sincere as a saint's dying prayer. 

8. 
Now life's chilly evening dim shades on your eye, 

And ushers the long dreary night : 
But you, like the star that athwart gilds the sky, 

Your course to the latest is bright. 



MR. W. CREECH, 

BOOKSELLER, EDINBURGH. 

Written in a Solitary Inn, in Selkirk, ISth May, 1787. 

1. 
AULD^ chuckle Reekie^ s* sair,^ distrest, 
Down droops her ance^ wcel burnish't crest, 
Nae* joy her bonnie* buskit nest 

Can yield ava,^ 
Her darling bird that she loes best 

Willie's awar 

2. 
O Willie was a witty wight. 
And had o" things an unco" slight; 

1 01(1 mother. 5 Handsomely deco- 7 Away. 

2 Sorely. rated. 8 Of. 

3 Once well. 6 At all. 9 Uncommon, 

4 No. 

• Edinburgh. 
T t 



330 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

Auld Reekie ay he kept it tight, 

And trig an'^ bravv : 
But now they'll busk^ her like a fright 

Willie's awa ! 
3. 
The stiffest o' them a'^ he bovv'd, 
The bauldesf* o' them a' he covv'd ;* 
They durst nae® mair than he allow'd 

That was a law : 
We've lost a birkie'^ weel' worth gowd,^ 

Willie's awa ! 
4. 
Now gawkies/° tawpies," gowks" and fools, 
Frae^^ colleges and boarding-schools, 
May sprout like simmer" puddock-stools 

In glen or shaw ; 
He wha^^ could brush them down to mools^* 

Willie's awa ! 
5. 
The breth'ren o' the Commerce-Chaumer* 
May mourn their loss wi'" doolfu' clamour ; 
He was a dictionar an' grammar 

Amang^^ them a' ; 
I fear they'll now make mony^^ a stammer 

Willie's awa ! 

6. 
Nae mair we see his levee door • 

Philosopher's and poets pour,t 
And toothy critics by the score 

In bloody raw r° 
The adjutant o' a' the core 

Willie's awa ! 

1 Npat and fine. 8 Well. 15 Who. 

2 Dress. 9 Gold. 16 The dust of the dead. 

3 All. 10 Silly minded persons, 17 With doleful. 

4 Boldest. 11 Sluts. 18 Among. 

5 Humbled. 12 Blockheads. 19 Many. 

6 No more. ^ 13 From. 20 Row. 

7 Man of talents,* 14 Summer toad-stools. 

* The chamber of commerce in Edinburgh, of which Mr. Creech was Se- 
cretary. 

t Many literary gentlemen were accustomed to meet at Mr. Creech's house 
at breakfast. Burns often met with them there, when he called, and hence the 
name of Jjevee. 



ROBERT BURNS. 33 1 

7. 

Now worthy Gregory's* Latin face, 
Tytler'sf and Greenfield'iaJ modest grace ; 
M'Kenzie,§ Stuart,|| such a brace, 

As Rome ne'er saw ; 
They a' maun^ meet some ither^ place, 

Wilhe's awa ! 

7. 

Poor Burns — e'en Scotch drink canna^ quicken, 
He cheeps'* hke some bewildered chicken, 
Scar'd frae it's minnie* and cleckin^ 

By hoodie^-craw ; 
Grief's gi'en® his heart an unco^ kickin', 

Willie's awa ! 

8. 
Now ev'ry sour-mou'd'° girnin'" blellum,*^ 
And Calvin's fock," are fit to fell him ; 
And self-conceited critic skellum^" 

His quill may draw ; 
He wha could brawlie** ward their bellum^* 

Willie's awa ! 
9. 
Up wimpling*' stately Tweed I've sped, 
And Eden scenes on chrystal Jed, 
And Ettrick banks now roaring red 

While tempests blaw ;" 
But every joy and pleasure's fled 

Willie's awa ! 
10. 
May I be slander's common speech ; 
A text for infamy to preach ; 
And lastly, streckit" out to bleach 

In winter snaw ;'" 



1 Must. 


8 Given. 


15 Bravely. 


2 Other. 


9 Great. 


16 A.ttacks, 


3 Cannot. 


10 Sour-mouth'J. 


17 Mcatidi-rine; 

18 Blow. 


4 Chirps. 


11 Grining. 


5 Mother. 


12 Idle talker. 


19 Stretched. 


6 Brood. 


13 Folk. 


20 Snow. 


7 Carrion crow. 


14 Worthless fellow. 





• Dr. Gregory. -f Mr. Tyller, of Woodhouselee, 

+ Dr. Greenfield. — This gentleman has been supposed to be the Author of 
the " Waverly Novels." 
§ M'Kenzie, author of the Man of Feeling, and other poems. 
II Professor Dugal Stewart. 



332 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

When I forgot thee ! Willie Creech, 
Tho' far awa ! 

11. 

May never wicked fortune touzle^ him ! 
May never wicked man bamboozle him ! 
Until a pow^ as auld's' Methusalem ! 

He canty'* claw ! 
Then to the blessed New Jerusalem 

Fleet wing awa ! 

1 Rumple. 3 Old as. 

2 Head. 4 Cheerfully. 



SKETCH. NEW-YEAR'S DAY. 

TO MRS. DUNLOP. 

Mrs. Dunlop of Dunlop, to whom this Sketch is addressed, 
was one of the earliest, and by Burns, the most highly es- 
teemed of his friends. Gilbert, the brother of the Poet, 
relates, that ' about the time of Burns' publishing in Kil- 
marnock, she had been afflicted with a long and severe ill- 
ness, which had reduced her mind to the most distressing 
state of depression. In this situation, a copy of the printed 
poems was laid on her table by a friend ; and happening 
on the Cctter''s Saturday -Night, she read it over with the 
greatest pleasure and surprise ; the Poet's description of 
the simple cottagers, operating on her mind like the spell 
of a exorcist, expelling the demon mm«, and restoring her 
to her wonted inward harmony and satisfaction. Mrs. 
Dunlop sent off a person express to Mossgiel, distant fif- 
teen or sixteen miles, with a very obliging letter to Burns, 
desiring him to send her half a dozen copies of his poems, 
if he had them to spare, and begging he would do her the 
pleasure of calling at Dunlop House as soon as convenient. 
This was the beginning of a correspondence which ended 
only with the Poet's life. The last use he made of his 
pen, was writing a letter to this Lady a few days before 
his death.'' 

The friendship of Mrs. Dunlop was of particular value to 
Burns. This Lady, daughter and sole heiress to Sir Tho- 
mas Wallace of Craigie, and lineal descendant to the 



ROBERT BURNS. 33S 

illustrious Wallace, the first of Scottish warriors, possess- 
ed the qualities of mind suited to her high lineage. Pre- 
serving in the decline of life, the generous affections of 
youth; her admiration of the Poet was soon accompanied 
by a sincere friendship for the man; which pursued him 
after life, through evil and through good report ; in po- 
verty, in sickness, and in sorrow ; which was employed in 
defending his character after his death, and in stretching 
the hand of protection to his infant family, when their 
natural guardian was no more. 



THIS day, Time winds the exhausted chain, 
To run the twelvemonth's length again : — 
I see the old, bald-pated fellow, 
With ardent eyes, complexion sallow, 
Ajusl th' unimpaired machine, 
To wheel the equal, dull routine. 

The absent lover, minor heir. 

In vain assail him with their prayer. 

Deaf as my friend, he sees them press, 

Nor makts the hour one moment less. 

Will you (the Major's* with the hounds, 

The happy tenants share his rounds ; 

Coila's fair Rachel's care to-day, f 

And blooming Keith's engaged with Gray ;) 

From housewife cares a minute borrow — 

— That grandchild's cap will do to-morrow — 

And join with me a moralizing, 

This day's propitious to be wise in. 

First, what did yesternight deliver ? 

" Another year is gone forever." 

And what is this day's strong suggestion ? 

*< The passing moment's all we rest on !" 

Rest on — for what ? what do we here ? 

Or why regard the passing year ? 

Will time, amus'd with proverb'd lore, 

Add to our date one minute more ! 

• Major Dunlop. 

t This young lady was drawing a picture of Coila, from the Vision, p. 255. 



334 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

A few days may — a few years must-— 
Repose us in the silent dust. 
Then is it wise to damp our bliss ? 
Yes — all such reasonings are amiss ! 
The voice of nature loudly cries, 1 

And many a message from the skies, V 
That something in us never dies : 3 
That on this frail, uncertain state, 
Hang matters of eternal weight ; 
That future-life in worlds unknown 
Must take its hue from this alone : 
Whether as heavenly glory bright. 
Or dark as mis'ry's woeful night — 
Since then, my honor'd, first of friends, 
On this poor being all depends ; 
Let us th' important 72ow employ 
And live as those who never die. 
Tho' you with days and honors crown'd, 
Witness that filial circle round, 
(A sight life's sorrows to repulse, 
A sight pale envy to convulse,) 
Others now claim your chief regard ; 
Yourself, you wait your bright reward. 



TO MISS JESSY LEWARS, 

DUMFRIES. 

WITH A PRESENT OF BOOKS. 

THINE be the volumes Jessy fair. 
And with them take the poet's prayer ; 
That fate may in her fairest page. 
With every kindliest, best presage, 
Of future bliss, enrol thy name : 
With native worth, and spotless fame, 
And wakeful caution still aware 
Of ill-«-but chief, man's felon snare ; 



ROBERT BURNS. 335 



All blameless joys on ea^'th we find, 
And all the treasures of the mind — 
These be thy guardian and reward ; 
So prays thy faithful friend, the bard. 



TO R. GRAHAM, ESQ. 

OF FINTRY, 

Commissioner of Excise, 1 788. 

WHEN Nature her great master-piece designed, 
And fram'd her last best work, the human mind, 
Her eye intent on all the mazy plan, 
She form'd of various parts the various man. 

Then first she calls the useful many forth ; 
Plain plodding industry, and sober worth : 
Thence peasants, farmers, native sons of earth, 
And merchandise' whole genius take their birth : 
Each prudent cit, a warm existence finds, 
And all mechanics' many-apron'd kinds. 
Some other rarer sorts are wanted yet. 
The lead and buoy are needful to the net : 
The caput mortuum of gross desires 
Makes a material for mere knights and squires ; 
The martial phosphorus is taught to flow. 
She kneads the lumpish philosopliic dough, 
Then marks th' unyielding mass with grave designs,, 
Law, physics, politics, and deep divines : 
Last, she sublimes th' Aurora of the poles, 
The flashing elements of female souls. 

The order'd system; fair before her stood. 
Nature well-pleas'd, pronouncM it very good ; 
But ere she gave creating labour o'er. 
Half-jest, she tried one curious labour more. 



336 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

Some spumy, fiery, ignis fat mis matter ; 
Such as the slightest breath of air might scatter-; 
With arch alacrity and conscious glee 
(Nature may have her whim as well as we, 
Her Hogarth-art perhaps she meant to show it) 
She forms the thing, and christens it — a poet. 
Creature, tho' oft the prey of care and sorrow, 
When blest to-day unmindful of to-morrow. 
A being form'd t' amuse his graver friends, 
Admir'd and prais'd — and there the homage ends : 
A mortal quite unfit for fortune's strife, 
Yet oft the sport of all the ills of life ; 
Prone to enjoy each pleasure riches give, 
Yet haply wanting wherewithal to live ; 
Longing to wipe each tear, to heal each groan, 
Yet frequent all unheeded in his own. 

But honest Nature is not quite a Turk, 
She laugh'd at first, then felt for her poor work- 
Pitying the propless climber of mankind, 
She cast about a standard tree to find ; 
And, to support his helpless woodbine state, 
Attached him to the generous truly great^ 
A title, and the only one I claim. 
To lay strong hold for help on bounteous Graham. 

Pity the tuneful muses' hapless train. 
Weak, timid landsmen on life's stormy main I 
Their hearts no selfish stern absorbent stuff, 
That never gives — tho' humbly takes enough ; 
The little fate allows, they share as soon, 
Unlike sage, proverb'd wisdom's hard- wrung boon. 
The world were blest did bliss on them depend, 
Ah I that " the friendly e'er should want a friend !" 
Let prudence number o'er each sturdy son, 
Who life and wisdom at one race begun, 
Who feel by reason, and who give by rule, 
(Instinct's a brute, and sentiment a fool !) 
Who make poor will do, wait upon / should — 
We own they're prudent, but who feels they're good ? 



ROBERT BURNS. 337 

Ye wise ones, hence ! ye hurt the social eye ! 
God's image rudely etch'd on Base alloy ! 
But come ye, who the god like pleasure know. 
Heaven's attribute distinguish'd — to bestow ! 
W hose arms of love would grasp the human race ; 
Come thou who giv'st with all a courtier's grace : 
Friend of my life^ true patron of my ryhmes ! 
Prop of my dearest hopes for future times. 
"Why shrinks my soul half blushing, half afraid, 
Backward, abash'd to ask thy friendly aid ? 
I know my need, I know thy giving hand, 
I crave thy friendship at thy kind command ; 
But there are such who court the tuneful nine — 
Heavens ! should the branded character be mine ! 
Whose verse in manhood's pride sublimely flows, 
Yet vilest reptiles in their begging prose. 
Mark, how their lofty independent spirit 
Soars on the spurning wing of injur'd merit! 
Seek not the proofs in private life to find ; 
Pity the best of words should be but wind ! 
So, to heaven's gates the lark's shrill song ascends, 
But grovelling on the earth the carol ends. 
In all the clam'rous cry of starving want, 
They dun benevolence with shameless front ; 
Oblige them, patronise their tinsel lays, 
They persecute you all your future days ! 
Ere my porr soul such deep damnation stain, 
My horny fist assume the plough again ; 
The pie-bali'd jacket let me patch once more ; 
On eighteen-pence a week Pve lived before. 
Though, thanks to Heaven, I dare even that last shift. 
I trust meantime my boon is in thy gift ; 
That plac'd by thee upon the wish'd for height, ^ 
Where, man and nature fairer in her sight, 
My muse may imp her wing for some sublimer 
flight.* 



I 



• This is our Poet's first epigtle to Graham, of Fintry. It is not equal to 
the second, Vol. HI. ; but it contains loo much of the characteristic vigour 
of its author to be suppivssed. A little more knowledge of natural history , or 
©f cheraisti y, was waated to enable him to execute the original ooaceptioit 
correctly. Bd. 



U U 



m THE POETICAL WORKS OF 



TO THE SAME. 



LATE crippPd of an arm, and now a leg, 
About to beg a pass for leave to beg ; 
Dull, listless, teas'd, dejected, and deprest, 
(Nature is adverse to a cripple's rest ;) 
Will generous Graham list to his poet's wail ? 
(It soothes poor misery, hearkening to her tale) 
And hear him curse the light he first surveyed, 
And doubly curse the luckless rhyming trade? 

Thou, Nature, partial Nature, I arraign ; 
Of thy caprice maternal I complain. 
The lion and the bull thy care have found, 
One shakes the forests, and one spurns the ground t 
Thou giv'st the ass his hide, the snail his shell, 
Th' envenom-d wasp, victorious, guards his cell» 
Thy minions, kings defend, control, devour, 
In all th' omnipotence of rule and power. — 
Foxes and statemen, subtile wiles ensure ; 
The cit and polecat stink, and are secure. 
Toads with their poison, doctors with their drug, 
The priest and hedgehog in their robes are snug. 
Ev'n silly woman has her warlike arts, 
Her tongue and eyes, her dreaded spear and darts. 

But Oh ! thou bitter step-mother, and hard. 
To thy poor, fenceless, naked child — the Bard ! 
A thing unteachable in world's skill, 
And half an ideot too, more helpless still. 
No heels to bear him from the op'ning dun ; 
No claws to dig, his hated sight to shun ; 
T«Jo horns, but those by luckless Hymen worn, 
And those, alas ! not Amelthea's horn : 
No nerves olfact'ry, Mammon's trusty cur, 
Clad in rich dulness' comfortable fur, 
In naked feeling, and in aching pride, 
He bears th' unbroken blast from ev'ry side ; 



ROBERT BURNS. 539 

Vampyre booksellers drain him to the heart, 
And scorpion critics cureless venom dart. 

Critics — appalPd I venture on the name, 
Those cut-throat bandits in the paths of fame : 
Bloody dissectors, worse than ten Monroes ; 
He hacks to teach, they mangle to expose. 

His heart by causeless wanton malice wrong, 
By blockheads' daring into madness stung ; 
His well-won bays, than life itself more dear, 
By miscreants torn, who ne'er one sprig must wear : 
Foil'd, bleeding, tortur'd, in the unequal strife, 
The hapless poet flounders on thro' life. * 

Till fled each hope that once his bosom fir'd. 
And fled each muse that glorious once inspir'd. 
Low sunk in squalid, unprotected age, 1 

Dead, even resentment, for his injur'd page, C 

He heeds or feels no more the ruthless critic's rage ! } 

So, by some hedge, the gen'rous steed deceas'd, 
For half-starv'd snarling curs a dainty feast ; 
By toil and famine, wore to skin and bone, 
Lies senseless of each tugging bitch's son. 

O dulness ! portion of the truly blest ! 
Calm shelter'd haven of eternal rest ! 
Thy sons ne'er madden in the fierce extremes 
Of fortune's polar frost, or torrid beams. 
If mantling high she fills the golden cup, 
"With sober selfish ease they sip it up ; 
Conscious the bounteous meed they well deserve, 
They only wonder, ' some folks' do not starve. 
The grave sage hern thus easy picks his frog, 
And thinks the mallard a sad worthless dog. 
When disappointment snaps the clue of hope, 
And thro' disastrous night they darkling grope, 
"With deaf endurance sluggishly they bear. 
And just conclude 'that ibols are fortune's care.' 
So, heavy, passive to the tempest's shocks, 
Strong on the sign-post stands the stupid ox. 



340 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

Not so the idle muses' madcap train, 
Not such the workings of their moon-struck brain; 
In equanimity they never dwell, 
By turns in soaring heav'n, or vaulted hell. 

I dread thee, fate, relentless and severe, 
With all a poet's, husband's, father's fear! 
Already one strong hold of hope is lost, 
Glencairn the truly noble, lies in dust ; 
(Fled, like the sun eclips'd as noon appears, 
And left us darkling in a world of tears ;) 
O ! hear my ardent, grateful, selfish pray'r ! 
Fintra^ my other stay, long bless and spare ! 
Thro' a long life his hopes and wishes crown, 
And bright in cloudless skies his sun go down I 
May hliss domestic smooth his private path ; ] 

Give energy to life ; and sooth his latest breath, \ 
With many a filial tear circling the bed of death ! \ 



TO THE 

RIGHT HON. CHARLES JAMES FOX. 

Afril, 1789. 

HOW wisdom and folly meet, mix, and unite ; 
How virtue and vice blend their black and their white ; 
How genius, th' illustrious father of fiction. 
Confounds rule and law, reconciles contradiction— 
I sing: If these mortals, the critics, should bustle, 
I care not, not I, let the critics go whistle. 

But now for a patron, whose name and whose glory 
At once may illustrate and honour my story. 

Thou first of our orators, first of our wits ; 
Yet whose parts and acquirements seem mere lucky 
hits; 



ROBERT BURNS. 341 

With knowledge so vast, and with judgment so 

stronj^ ; 
No man with the half of 'em e'er went far wrong ; 
With passions so potent, and fancies so bright, 
No man with the half of 'em e'er went quite right ; 
A sorry, poor misbegot son of the muses, 
For using thy name offers fifty excuses. 

Good L — d, what is man ! for as simple he looks, 
Do but try to develope his hooks and his crooks ; 
With his depths and his shallows, his good and his 

evil. 
All in all he's a problem must puzzle the devil. 

On his one ruling passion. Sir Pope hugely labours, 
That, like th' old Hebrew-walking switch, eats up 

its neighbours : 
Mankind are his show- box — a friend, would you 

know him ? 
Pull the string, ruling passion, the picture will show 

him. 
What pity, in rearing so beauteous a system, 
One trifling particular, truth, should have miss'd him; 
For, in spite of his fine theoretic positions. 
Mankind is a science defies definitions. 

Some sort all our qualities each to its tribe, 
And think human nature they truly describe ; 
Have you found this, or t'other ? there's more in the 

wind, 
As by one drunken fellow his comrades you'll find. 
But such is the flaw, or the depth of the plan. 
In the make of that wonderful creature, call'd Man, 
No two virtues, whatever relation they claim, 
Nor even two different shades of the bame. 
Though like as was ever twin brother to brother, 
Possessing the one, shall imply youv'e the other. 



343 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

EPISTLE 
FROM DR. BLACKLOCK. 

Edinburgh, Mth August, 1789. 

There was, perhaps never one among mankind, says Mr. 
Heron, whom you might more truly called an angel upon 
earth, than Dr. Blacklock. He was guileless and inno- 
cent as a child, yet endowed with manly sagacity and 
penetration. His heart was a perpetual spring of over- 
flowing benignity. His feelings were all tremblingly alive 
to the sense of the sublime, the beautiful, the tender, the 
pious, and the virtuous. Poetry was to him the dear solace 
of perpetual blindness ; and notwithstanding that irremedi- 
able misfortune, cheerfulness, even to gaiety was long the 
predominant colour of his mind. In his latter years, when 
the gloom might otherwise have thickened around him, 
hope, faith, devotion the most fervent and sublime, exalted 

- his mind to Heaven, and made him maintain his wonted 
cheerfulness in the expectation of a speedy dissolution. 

When Burns went to Edinburgh in the winter of 1786-87, 
he was received by Dr. Blacklock with the most flattering 
kindness, and was earnestly introduced to every person 
of taste and generosity among the good old man's friends. 
It was little he could do for a brother poet, but that little 
he did with a fond alacrity and with a modest grace. He 
died in 1791. 



Dear Burns, thou brother of my heart, 
Both for thy virtues and thy art ; 
If art it may be call'd in thee. 
Which Nature's bounty, lar^e and free, 
With pleasure onjhy breast diffuses, 
And warms thy soul with all the Muses. 
Whether to laugh with easy grace. 
Thy numbers move the sage's face, 
Or bid the softer passions rise, 
And ruthless souls with grief surprise, 
'Tis nature's voice distinctly felt. 
Thro' thee her organ, thus to melt. 



ROBERT BURNS. 34£ 

Most anxiously I wish to know, 
With thee of late how matters go ; 
How keeps thy much-lovM Jean her health ! 
What promises thy farm of wealth ? 
Whether the Muse persists to smile, 
And all thy anxious cares beguile ? 
Whether bright fancy keeps alive ? 
And how thy darling infants thrive ? 

For me, with grief and sickness spent, 
Since I my journey homeward bent. 
Spirits depressed no more I mourn, 
But vigour, life, and health return, 
No more to gloomy thoughts a prey, 
I sleep all night, and live all day ; 
By turns my book and friend enjoy, 
And thus my circling hours employ : 
Happy while yet these hours remain. 
If Burns could join the cheerful train. 
With wonted zeal, sincere and fervent, 
Salute once more his humble servant, 

THO. BLACKLOCK. 



TO DR. BLACKLOCK, 

Ellisland, 21s/ October, 1789= 

1. 

Wow,^ but your letter made me vauntie !^ 
And are ye hale,^ and weel,^ and cantie V 
I kenn'd^ it still your wee^ bit jauntie 

Wad^ bring ye to : 
Lord send you ay as weeFs I want ye, 

And then ye'll do. 

L Expressive of grati- 3 Whole. 6 Knew. 

tude. 4 Well. 7 Short excursion. 

2 Proud. 5 Cheerful. 8 Would, 



344 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF 



2. 



The ill-thief blaw^ the Heron south ! 
And never drink be near his drouth 1^ 
He tald' mysel by word o'"* mouth, 

He'd tak* my letter ; 
I lippen'd® to the chier in trouth,* 

And bade^ nae*° better. 

3. 
But aiblins** honest Master Heron 
Had at the time some dainty fair one, 
To ware'* his theologic care on, 

And holy study ^ 
And tir'd o' sauls*' to waste"* his lear on. 

E'en tried the body.* 



But what d'ye think, my trusty fier," 
I'm turn'd a ganger'^ — Peace be here I 
Parnassian queens, I fear, I fear 

Ye'U now disdain me. 
And then my fifty pounds a year. 

Will little gain me. 

5. 
Ye glaiket," gleesome,** dainty damies** 
Wha'"' by Castalia's wimplin^^ streamies, 
Lowp,*^ sing, and lave your pretty limbies,*^ 

Ye ken, ye ken. 
That Strang^ necessity supreme is 

'Mang^* sons o' men. 

6. 
I hae^^ a wife and twa*' wee laddies. 
They maun'* hae brose and brats*' o' duddies ; 



1 Blow. 


11 Perhaps. 


21 Meandering streams. 


2 Drought. 


12 Bestow. 


2'2 Leap. 


3 Told myself. 


13 Souls. 


23 Limbs. 


4 Of. 


14 Waste his learning. 


24 Strong. 


5 Take. 


15 Friend. 


25 Among. 


6 Trusted. 


16 Excise officer. 


26 Ha»e. 


7 Fellow. 


17 Giddy. 


27 Two little lads. 


8 Truth. 


18 Merry. 


28 Must have food. 


9 Wished. 


19 Dames. 


29 Signifying clothing. 


10 No. 


20 Who. 





" Mr. Heron, author of the History of Scotland, lately published (1800); 
and, among various other works, of a respectable life of our Poet him.8elf. 



I 



ROBERT BURNS. 345 

Ye ken' yoursels my heart right proud is, 

I need na vaunt,^ 
But I'll sned' besoms — thraW* saugh woodies^ 

Before they want. 

7. 

Lord help me thro' this vvarld* o' care ! 
I'm weary sick o't late and air !^ 
Not but i hae a richer share 

Than mony' ithers ; 
But why should ae^ man better fare, 

And a'' men brithers ?^° 

8. 
Come Firm Resolve take thou the van, 
Thou stalk o' carl-hemp^^ in man ! 
And let us mind, faint heart ne'er wan 

A lady fair ; 
Wha does the utmost that he can, 

Will whyles do mair.^^ 

9. 
But to conclude my silly rhyme, 
(I'm scant o' verse, and scant o' time) 
To make a happy fire -side clime 

To weans" and wife, 
That's the true pathos and sublime 

Of human life. 

10. 
My compliments to sister Beckie ; 
And eke the same to honest Lucky,^* 
I wat" she is a dainty^^ chuckie, 

As e'er tread clay ! 
And gratefully, my guid'^ auld cockie, 
Vm yours far ay, 

ROBERT BURNS. 



1 Know yourselves. 6 Early, 


12 More. 


2 Boast. , 7 Many others. 


13 Children. 


3 Cut brooms. 8 One. 


14 Old lady. 


4 Twist willow twigs 9 All. 


15 Know. 


into ropes. 10 Brothers. 


16 Worthy matron 


5 World. 11 Fortitude. 


17 Good. 



XX 



u6 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF 



SECOND EPISTLE TO DAVIE, 

A BROTHER POET* 
1. 

AULD^ NiBOR, 

I'M three times doubly o'er yonr debtor, 
For j'^our auld-farrant,^ frien'Iy letter ; 
Tho' I maun^ say't, I doubt ye flatter, 

Ye speak sae'' fair ; 
For my poor, silly, rhymin' clatter, 

Some less maun sair.* 

2. 
Hale be your heart, hale be your fiddle ; 
Langj* may your elbuck'^ jink an' diddle, 
Tae' cheer you thro' the weary widdle^ 

0'*° war'ly cares, 
Till bairns'" bairns kindly cuddle^^ 

Your auld^^ grey hairs. 

3. 
But, Davie, lad, I'm red" ye're glaikit;^' 
I'm tauld^° the Muse ye hae negleckit ;^^ 
An' gif " it's sae, ye sud^^ be lickit^'^ 

Until ye fyke ;2^ 
Sic hans^^ as you sud ne'er be faikit,^^ 
Be hain't^^ wha like. 

4. 
For me, I'm on Parnassus' brink, 
Rivin'^* the words tae^° gar them clink f^ 



1 Old Neighbour. 


10 Of worldly. 


19 Should. 


2 Sagacious. 


11 Children. 


20 Beat. 


3 Must. 


12 Embrace. 


21 Denoting restless paio 


4 So. 


13 Old. 


22 Such hands. 


5 Sore serve. 


14 Intormed. 


23 Let go with impunity. 


6 Long. 


15 Thoughtless. 


24 Spared who will. 


7 Elbow. 


16 Told. 


25 Spliting. 


8 To. 


17 Neglected. 


26 To make. 


9 Struggle. 


18 If it is do. 


27 Metre. 



• This is prefixed to the poems of David Sillar, published at Kilroamock, 
1789, and has not before appeared in our Author's printed poems. 



ROBERT BURNS. 347 

Whyles daez't* wi' love, whiles daez't wi' drinkj 
Wi'^ jads and masons ; 

An' whyles, but ay owre^ late, I think -v 

Braw^ sober lessons, 

5. 
Of a'* the thoughtless sons o' man. 
Com men' me to the Bardie clan ; 
Kxcept it be some idle plan 

O' rhymin' clink, 
The devil-haet, that I sud° ban, 

They ever think. 

6. 

Nae' thought, nae view, nae scheme o' livin,' 
Nae cares tae^ gie us joy or grievin' : 
But just the pouchie^ put the nieve^" in. 

An' while ought's there. 
Then, hiltie," skiltie, we gae scrievin,'^ 

An' fash nae main 

7. 
Leeze" me on rhyme ! it's aye a treasure, 
My chief, amaist^* my only pleasure. 
At hame,^® a-fiel'," at wark^* or leisure. 

The Muse, poor hizzie l^^ 
Tho' rough an' raploch^° be her measure, 
She's seldom lazy. 

8. 
Haud^' tae the Muse, my dainty Davie ; 
The warl'^^ may play you mony^^ a shavie ; 
But for the Muse she'll never leave ye, 

Tho' e'er sae poor, 
Na,^'*even tho' limpiu' wi' the spavie^^ 
Frae^^ door tae door. 

1 Stupified. 10 Hand. 19 Hussy, 

2 With jades. 11 In rapid succession, 20 Course, 
S Too. 12 Writing. 21 Hold. 

4 F'»e, 13 Mind no more. 22 World. 

5 All. 14 My afFtclion, 23 Many a trick 

6 Should swear. 15 Almost. 24 No. 

7 No. 16 Home. 25 Spaven. 

8 To give. 17 Abroad. 26 From. 

9 Pocket. 18 Work 



348 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 



TO A GENTLEMAN, 

The following Poem was written to a Gentleman who had 
sent him a newspaper, and promised to continue it free of 
expense. 

KIND Sir, Fve read your paper through, 

And faith, to me, 'twas really new ! 

How guessed y£, Sir, what maist^ I wanted ? 

This mony^ a day I've grain'd^ and gaunted,* 

To ken^ what French mischief was brewin' ; 

Or what the drumlie^ Dutch were doin' ; 

That vile doup-skelper,^ Emperor Joseph, 

If Venus yet had got his nose off; 

Or how the collieshangie^ works 

Atween the Russians and the Turks ; 

Or if the Swede, before he halt, 

Would play anither^ Charles the twalt :** 

If Denmark, any body spak^^ o't ; 

Or Poland, wha" had now the tack o't; 

How cut-throat Prussian blades were hingin' 

How libbet^^ Italy was singin' ; 

If Spaniard, Portuguese, or Swiss, 

Were sayin' or takin' aught amiss : 

Or how our merry lads at hame," 

In Britain's court kept up the game : 

How Royal George, the Lord leuk^* o'er him ! 

Was manac;ing St. Stephen's quorum ; 

If sleek it*^ Chatham Will was livin'. 

Or glaikit" Charlie got his nieve" in ; 

How daddie Burke the plea was cookin', 

If Warren Hastings' neck was yeukin ;^^ 

How cesses, stents,^" and fees were rax'd,^' 

Or if bare a — s yet were tax'd ; 

15 Look. 

16 Parasitical 

17 Rakish. 

18 Hand. 

19 Itching. 
2t) Dues. 
21 Stretchet?. 



1 Most. 




8 Quarrel. 


2 Many. 




9 Another. 


3 Groan 'd. 




10 'J velfth. 


4 Yawned. 




11 Spoke. 


5 Know. 




12 Who. 


6 riloomy. 




13 Castrated. 


7 Buttock- 


whipper. 


l4 Home. 



ROBERT BURNS. 349 

The news o' princes, dukes, and earls. 
Pimps, sharpers, bawds, and opera-girls ; 
If that daft^ buckie, Geordie Wales, 
Was threshin' still at hizzie's tails, 
Or if he was grown oughtlins^ douser. 
And no a perfect kintra^ cooser. 
A'* this and mair* I never heard of; 
And but for you I might despair'd of. 
So gratefu^ back your news I send you, 
And pray, a' gude^ things may attend you ! 

Ellislandy Monday ^ 29th Jan. 1790. 



1 Wanton unruly fellow. 4 All. 6 Grateful. 

2 Ought wiser. 5 More. 7 Good. 

3 Country stallion. 



TO SIR JOHN WHITEFORD, Bart. 

8ent with the Lament for James, Earl of Glencairn, 1791, 

THOU, who thy honour as thy God rever'st. 
Who, save thy mind's reproach^ nought earthly fear'st, 
To thee this votive offering I impart, 
The tearful tribute of a broken heart, 
The Jrie?id thou valued'st, I the patron lov'd ; 
His worth, his honour, all the world approved. 
We'll mourn till we too go as he has gone. 
And tread the dreary path to that dark world un- 
known. 



350 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

TO MISS CRUICKSHANKS, 

A VERY YOUNG LADY. 

fVritten on the Blank Leaf of a Book, presented to her ky 
the Author. 

BEAUTEOUS rose bud, young and gay, 

Blooming on thy early May, 

Never may'st thou lovely fiovv'r, 

Chilly shrink in sleety show'r! 

Never Boreas' hoary path, 

Never Eurus' pois'nous breath, 

Never baleful stellar lights. 

Taint thee with untimely blights i 

Never, never reptile thief 

Riot on thy virgin leaf! 

Nor even Sol too fiercely view 

Thy bosom, blushing still with dew 1 

Mayst thou long, sweet crimson gem, 
Richly deck thy native stem ; 
Till some ev'ning, sober, calm, 
Dropping dews, and breathing balm, 
While all around the woodland rings, 
And ev'ry bird thy requiem sings ; 
Thou, amid the dirgeful sound. 
Shed thy dying honours round, 
And resign to parent earth 
The loveliest form she e'er gave birth. 



ROBERT BURNS. 35X 



A POEM 

Addressed to Mr. Mitchell, Collector of Excise 
Dumfries, 1796. 

1. 
FRIEND of the Poet, tried and leal,^ 
Wha,^ wanting thee, might beg or steal ; 
Alake, alake, the meikle deiP 

Wi'* a' his witches 
Are at it, skelpin !* jig and reel, 

In my poor pouches.^ 

2. 
I modestly fu'' fain wad' hint it. 
That one pound one ^ I sairly^ want it : 
If wi' the hizzie^° down ye sent it, 

It would be kind ; 
And while my heart wi' life-blood dunted^^ 

Fd bear't in mind. 

3. 

So may the auld^^ year gang^^ out moaning 
To see the new come laden, groaning, 
Wi' double plenty o'er the loanin, 

To thee and thine ! 
Domestic peace and comforts crowning 

The hale^^ design ! 

POSTSCRIPT. 

1. 

Ye've heard this while how I've been licket,^* 
And by fell death was nearly nickel :^^ 



1 True. 


7 Full. 


12 Old. 


2 Who, 


8 Would. 


13 Go. 


3 Satan. 


9 Sorely. 


14 Whole. 


4 With all. 


10 Girl 


15 Afflicted, 


5 Smart tripping. 


11 Palpitated. 


16 CutofF. 


6 Pockets. 







352 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

Grim loun !^ he gal^ me by the fecket,^ 
An sair me sheuk '.* 

But, by guid^ luck, I lap^ a wicket, 

And turn'd a neukJ 

2. 
But by that health, I've got a share o't, 
And by tliat life, I'm promised mair^ o't, 
My hale^ and weel Fll take a' care o't 

A tentier^° way : 
Then farewell, folly, hide and nair o't, 

For ance" and aye. 

1 Fellow. 5 GooJ. 9 Health and wea'ti. 

2 Got. 6 Leaped. 10 More careful. 

3 Under waistcoat. 7 Corner. H Once. 

4 Shook. 8 More. 



POEM ON LIFE, 

Addressed to Colonel De Peyster, Dumfries, 1796. 

1. 

MY honoured colonel, deep I feel 
Your interest in the Poet's weal ; 
Ah ! now sma'^ heart I hae^ to speeP 

The steep Parnassus, 
Surrounded thus by bolus pill, 

And potion glasses. 

2. 
O what a canty* warld were it, 
Would pain and care, and sickness spare it; 
And fortune favour worth and merit, 

As they deserve ; 
(And aye rowth,* o' roast beef and claret ; 

Syne^ wha wad starve ?) 



1 Small. 


4 Cheerful world. 


2 Have. 


5 Plenty. 


3 Climb. 


6 Then who would 



ROBERT BURNS, S5S 

3. 
Dame Life, tho' fiction out may trick herj 
And in paste gems and frippery deck iier ; 
Oh ! flickering/ feeble, und unsicker^ 

I've found her still, 
Ay, wavering like the willow wicker,^ 

'Tween good and ill. 

4. 
Then that curst carmagnole,^ auld* Satan, 
Watches, like baudrans* by a rattan,' 
Our sinfu'* saul to get a claut' on 

Wi^° felon ire ; 
Syne, whip ! his tail ye'll ne'er cast saut^^ on. 

He's afF^=^ like fire, 

5. 

Ah Nick ! ah Nick ! it is na'^ fair, 
First shewing us the tempting ware, 
Bright wines and bonnie lasses rare, 

To put us daft;*^ 
Syne weave, unseen, thy spider snare 

O'** helFs damned waft, 

6. 
Poor man, the flie,^* aft bizzes by, 
And aft as chance he comes thee nigh, 
Thy auld damn'd elbow yeuks" wi' joy. 

And hellish pleasure ; 
Already in thy fancy's eye, 

Thy sicker treasure. 

7. 
Soon heels o'er gowdie !*® in he gangs,^^ 
And like a sheep-head on a tangs,^° 
Thy girning^* laugh enjoys his pangs 

And murdering wrestle^ 

1 Coaxing. 8 Sinful soul, 15 Of. 

S Unsteady. 9 H-Wd^ 16 Fly oft hissea. , 

3 Twig. 10 With. 17 Itclies. 

* Raggamuffin. 11 Salt. 18 Topsy-turty^ 

5 Old. 12 Off. 19 Goes. 

6 Cats. 1.3 Not. 20 Tongs. 

7 Rat. 14 Delirious. SI Grinping. - 

yy 



354 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

As dangling in the wind, he hangs, 
A gibbet's tassel. 

8. 
But lest you think I am uncivil, 
To plague ye with this draunting^ drivel, 
Abjuring a' intentions evil, 

I quat^ my pen : — 
The Lord preserve us frae^ the devil ! 

Amen ! amen ! 

1 Drowling. 2 Quit. 3 From. 



TO J. M. ESQ. S— N, MAUCHLINE. 

Mosgiel, 14th June, M. M. 1790. 

FRIDAY first's the day appointed, 
By our Right Worshipful Anointed,/ 
To hold our grand procession, 
To get a blaud* o'^ Johnnie's morals, 
And taste a swatch^ o' Manson's barrels, 

I' th' way of our profession. 
Our master and the brotherhood 

Wad^ a' be glad to see you ; 
For me, I wad be mair' than proud 

To share the mercies wi'® you. 
If death then, wi' skaith' then. 

Some mortal heart is hechtin'* 
Inform him, and storm him 

That Saturday ye'Il fetcht'^ im. 

ROBERT BURNS, D. M. 



1 Considerable portion. 


4 Would all. 


7 Damage. 


2 Of. 


5 More. 


8 Assailing. 


.3 Specimen. 


6 With. 


9 Fight him 



ROBERT BURNS. 355 



w^ms! mm^-®®m®^<, 



THE FAREWELL 

TO THE BRETHREN OF ST. JAMES'S LODGE, 
T^RBOLTON* 

TMne.— -Good Night and Joj be Wi' You A' !' 

1. 
ADIEU ! — a heart-warm, fond adieu 1 

Dear brothers of the mystic He ! 
Ye favoured, ye enlighten'' d few, 

Companions of my social joy ! 
Tho' I to foreign lands must hie, 

Pursuing Fortune's slidd'ry ba',^ 
With melting heart and brimful eye, 

I'll mind you still, tho' far awa'.^ 

2. 
Oft have I met your social band. 

And spent the cheerful, festive night ; 
Oft, honoured with supreme command, 

Presided o'er the sons of light : 
And by that hieroglyphic bright. 

Which none but craftsmen ever saw ! 
Strong mem'ry on my heart shall write 

Those happy scenes when far awa'. 

3. 
May freedom, harmony, and love, 

Unite you in the grand design^ 
Beneath th' omniscient eye above, 

The glorious architect divine ! 

1 Ball. 2 Away. 

• Composed ia 1786, when the Poet contemplated going to the West- 
Indies. 



356 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

That you may keep th' unerring line, 
Slill rising by the plummet's law. 

Till order bright completely shine, 
Shall be my pray'r when far aw a'. 

4. 
And you farewel ! whose merits claim, 

Justly, that highest badge to wear ! 
Heav'n bless your honoured, noble name, 

To Masonry and Scotia dear ! 
A last request permit me here, 

When yearly ye assemble a%* 
One round, 1 ask it with a tear. 

To him, the Bard thafsfar awa^ 

1 All. 



TAM GLEN. 

1. 

MY heart is a-breaking, dear tittie,* 

Some counsel unto me come len',^ 
To anger them a'' is a pity, 

But' what will I do wi'^ Tarn Glen ? |j 

2. 
I'm thinking, wi' sic* a braw fellow, 

In poortith* I might mak' a fen ; 
What care I in riches to wallow. 

If I maunna^ marry Tam Glen ? 

3. 
There's Lowrie, the laird o'^ Drummeller, 

"Guid" day to you brute,'' he comes ben ;*^ 
He brags and he blaws^^ o' his siller,*^ 

But when will he dance like Tam Glen ? 

11 Toward the inoer 
apaitment. 

12 Bo>4Sts. 

13 Money. 



1 Sister. 


6 Poverty. 


2 Lend. 


7 Make a shift. 


3 All. 


8 Must not. 


4 With. 


9 Of. 


5 Such. 


10 Good. 



ROBERT BURNS. 357 

4. ■ 

My minnie^ does constantly deave me, 

And bids me bevvare o' young men ; 
They flatter, she says to deceive me, 

But wha^ can think sae^ o' Tarn Glen ? 

5. 
My daddie says, gin'* I'll forsake him, 

He'll gie* me guid hunder^ marks ten : 
Bitt, if it's orilain'd I maun tak^ him, 

O vvha will I get but Tarn Glen ? 

6. 

Yestreen* at the Valentine's dealing. 

My huart to my mou^ gied^° a sten ; 
For thrice I drew ane^^ without failing. 

And thrice it was written, Tam Glen. 

7. 

The last Halloween I was waukin*^ 

My droukit*" sark-sleeve, as ye ken ; ** 

His likeness cam" up the house staukin,^^ 
And the very grey breeks" o' Tam Glen? 

8. 
Come counsel, dear tittie, don't tarry ; 

I'll gie you my bonnie black hen, 
Gif ye will advise me to marrv 

The lad I lo'e^' dearly, Tam Glen. 



1 Mother. 


7 Take. 


13 Drenched shift-sleeve 


2 Who. 


8 Last night. 


U K.1..W. 


3 So. 


9 Mouth. 


15 Cnnie. 


4 If. 


10 Gave a jump. 


16 Stalking;. 


5 Give. 


11 One. 


17 Bi-ftches. 


6 Hundred. 


12 Waking. 


18 Love, 



See tiote on Hallcfween, page 77. 



35$ THE POETICAL WORKS OF 



COUNTRY LASSIE. 

1. 

IN simmer when the hay was mawn»^ 

And corn wav'd green in ilka^ field, 
"While claver^ blooms white o'er the lea, 

And roses blaw* in ilka bield ;* 
Blythe Bessie in the milking shiel,* 

Says I'll be wed come o't what will ; 
Out spak' a dame in wrinkled eild,^ 

O' gude^ advisement comes nae" ill. 

2. 
Its ye hae^^ wooers mony*^ ane, 

And lassie ye're but young ye ken ;" 
Then wait a wee," and cannie wale,^' 

A routhie^^ butt/^ a routhie ben :^^ 
There's Johnie o'^^ the Buskie-glen, 

Fu^° is his barn, fu' is his byre f^ 
Tak^^ this frae^^ me, my bonnie hen, 

It's plenty beets^^ the lover's fire. 

3. 
For Johnie o' the Buskie-glen, 

I dinna^* care a single flie ;*^ 
He loes^^ sae well his craps^^ and kye 

He has nae love to spare for me : 
But blythe's the blink o' Robie's e'e"^ 

And vveeP° I wat he lo'es me dear : 
Ae^^ blink o' him I wad^^ na gie 

For Buskie-glen and a'^^ his gear, 

I Mowed. 12 Many a one, 23 From. 

3 Ev.-ry. 13 Know. 24 Feeds. 

3 Clover. 14 Little. 25 Do not. 

4 Blow. 15 Prudently choose, 26 Fly. 

5 Sheltering place. 16 Plentiful. 27 Loves so. 

6 Shepherds mountain 17 Outer apartment. 28 Crops and cattle, 
cottage. 18 Inner apartment. 29 Eye. 

7 Spoke. 19 Of. 30 Well I wot. 

8 Age. 20 Full. 31 One. 

9 Of good. 21 Cow-stable. 32 Would not give. 

10 No. 22 Take. 33 All his wealth. 

11 Have. 



ROBERT BURNS, 359 

4. 
O thoughtless lassie, life's a faught,* 

The canniest^ gate, the strife is sair f 
But ay fu'^ han't is fechin* best, 

A hungry care 's an unco® care : 
But some uill spend, and some will spare, 

An'' vvifu' folk maun* hae their will : 
Syne^ as ye brew, my maiden fair, 

Keep mind that ye maun drink the yill/** 

5. 
O gear will buy me rigs" o' land. 

And gear will buy me sheep and kye ;^^ 
But the tender heart o' leesome'^ love, 

The gowd'* and siller canna" buy : 
We may be poor Robie and 1, 

Light is the burden love lays on ; 
Content and love brings peace and joy, 

What mair^^ hae queens upon a throne ? 



I Fight. 


7 And wilful. 


12 Cows. 


2 Easiest way. 


8 Must have. 


13 Yirti.ous. 


3 Sore. 


9 Thtn. 


14 G h; atul silrer 


4 Pull hand. 


10 Ale. 


15 Cannot. . 


5 Fought. 


11 Ridges. 


16 More. 


6 Great. 







CLARINDA.* 

CLARINDxY, mistress of my soul, 

The measur'd time is run ! 
The wretch beneath the dre'ary pole, 

So marks his latest sun. 

2. 
To what dark cave of frozen night 

Shall poor Sylvander liie ; 
Depriv'd of thee, his life and ligiit, 

The sun of all his joy. 

• Suppos'fd to be a Lady M'Kenziej the same Claiinda, to whom the let- 
ters were addressed. 



S60 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

3. 
We part — but by these precious drops, 

That fill thy lovely eyes ! 
No other light shall guide my steps, 

'Till thy bright beams arise. 

4. 
She, the fair sun of all her sex, 

Has blest my glorious day : 
And shall a glimmering planet fix 

My worship to its ray ? 



THE POSIE. 

1. 
O LUVE^ will venture in, where it daur^ na weei 

be seen, 
O luve will venture in where wisdom ance' has been; 
But I will down yon river rove, amang^ the wood 
sae' green, 
And a'^ to pu' a posie to my ain' dear may.* 

2. 
The primrose I will pu', the firstling o'^ the year, 
And I will pu' the pink, the emblem o' my dear. 
For she's the pink o' womankind, and blooms without 
a peer, 
And a* to be a posie to my ain dear may. 

3. 

ni pu' the budding rose, when Phoebus peeps in 

view, 
For it's like a baumy' kiss o' her sweet bonnie mou ;^* 
The hyacinth's for constancy wi'" its unchanging 

blue, 
And a' to be a posie to my ain dear may. 

9 Balmy. 
10 Mouth. 
H With. 

May 'maid young woman, 



1 Love. 


5 So. 


2 Dare not well. 


6 All to pull 


3 Once. 


7 Own. 


4 Among. 


8 Of. 



ROBERT BURNS. 361 

4. 
The lily it is pure, and the lily it is fair, 
And in her lovely bosom, I'll place the lily there : 
The daisy for simplicity and unaffected air, 
And a' to be a posie to my ain dear May. 

5. 
The hawthorn I will pu', with its locks o' siller^ 

grey, 
Where like an as^ed man, it stands at break o' day, 
But the sonwsterb' nest within the bush, I winna^ 
tak' away ; 
And a' to be a posie to my ain dear May. 

6. 
The woodbine I will pu' when the e'ening star is near, 
And the diamond-draps^ o' dew shall be her e'en"* 

sae clear ; 
The violet for modesty which weeP she fa's to wear^ 
And a' to be a posie to my ain dear May. 

I'll tie the posie round wi' a silken band o' luve, 
And I'll place it in her breast, and I'll swear by a' 

above, 
That to my latest breath o' life the band shall ne'er 

remove, 
And this will be a posie to my ain dear May, 



1 Silver. 


4 E>es. 


2 Wiil not take. 


5 VVell becomes. 


3 Drops. 





WILT THOU BE MY DEARY. 

Air. — " The Sutor^s Dochter." 

1. 
WILT thou be my dearie ? 

When sorrow urinj^s the gentle heart, 
O wilt thou let me cheer thee ? 
By the treasure of my soul, 
z z 



362. THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

And that's the love I bear thee ! 
I swear- and vow, that only thou. 

Shall ever be my dearie. 

Only thou, I swear and vow, 
Shall ever be my dearie. 

2. 
Lassie say thou lo'es^ me ; 

Or if thou wilt na^ be my ain,^ 
Say na thou'lt refuse me : 

If it winna,'* canna* be, 
Thou, for thine, may chuse me ; 

Let me, lassie, quickly die, 
Trusting that thou lo'es me. 

Lassie, let me quickly die, 

Trusting that thou lo'es me. 



i Loves. 3 Own. 5 Cannot. 

2 Not. 4 Will not. 



A ROSE-BUD BY MY EARLY WALKS.^ 

1. 
A ROSE-BUD by my early walks, 
Adown a corn-inclosed bawk,^ 
Sae^ gently bent its thorny stalk, 
All on a dewy morning. 

2. 
Ere twice the shades o'^ dawn are fled, 
In a'" its crimson glory spread. 
And drooping rich the the dewy head, 
It scents the early morning. 

1 A strip of land left un- 2 So. 

ploughed, two or three 3 Of. 

feet in breadth. 4 All. 

• Conipo'ed on Miss Jenny Cruiekshank, only daughter of the Poet's wor- 
thy friend, Mr. Wm. Cruiekshank of the High School, Edinburgh. 



I 



ROBERT BURNS. 563 

3. 

Within the bush, her covert nest 
A little linnet fondly prest, 
The dew sat chilly on her breast 
Sae early in the morning. 

4. 
She soon shall see her tender brood, 
The pride, the pleasure o' the wood, 
Amang^ the fresh green leaves bedewed, 
Awake the early morning. 

5. 
Sq thou, dear bird, young Jeany fair, 
On trembling string or vocal air, 
Shall sweetly pay the tender care 
That tents^ thy early morning. 

6. 
So thou, sweet rose-bud, young and gay 
Shall beauteous blaze upon the day, 
And bless th^ parent's evening ray 
That watch'd they early morning. 

1 Among. 2 Watches. 



BESS AND HER SPINNING WHEEL« 

O LEEZE^ me on my spinnin'-wheel, 
O leeze me on my rock^ and reel; 
Frae^ tap to tae that deeds" me bien,^ 
And haps^ me fieF and warm at e'en ! 
I'll set me down and sing and spin, 
While laigh^ descends the siinaier^ sun, 
Blest vvi^° content, and milk and meal — 
O leeze me on my spinnin'-wheel. 



1 My best wishes. 


5 Abundantly. 


9 Summer 


2 Distaff. 


6 Covers. 


10 With. 


3 From lop to toe. 


7 Soft. 




4 Clothes. 


8 Low. 





364 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

2. 
On ilka' hand the burnies^ trot, 
And meet below my theekit" cot : 
The scented birk* and hawthorn white 
Across the pool their arms unite, 
Alike to screen the birdie's nest, 
And little fishes caller' rest ! 
The sun blinks kindly in the biel',<* 
Where, blythe 1 turn my spinnin'-wheeL 

3. 
On lofty aiks' the cushats' wail, 
And echo cones the doolfu^ tale ; 
The lintwhites^" in the hazel braes,^^ 
Delighted rival ither's'^ lays : 
The'craik" amans:^" the clover hay, 
The paitrick^^ <\hirrin' o'er the lea, 
The swallow jinkin^^ roiind my shiel,^' 
Amuse me at my spinnin'-wheel. 

4. 
Wi' sma'^' to sell and less to buy, 
Aboon^^ distress, below envy, 
O wha^° wad leave this humble state, 
For a'^' the pride of a' the great ? 
Amid their flcirins^, idle toys, 
Amid their cum'brous dinsome joys, 
Can they the peace and pleasure feel 
Of Bessy at her spinnin'-wheel ! 



1 Every. 


8 Wood pidgeons 


2 Rivulets. 


9 DoUlul. 


3 Thatched. 


10 Linntts. 


4 Bh-ch. 


n Banks. 


.'> Cooling. 


12 Others. 


6 House. 


13 Land-rail. 


7 Oaks, 


1 i Among. 



15 Partridge. 

16 Turning swiltlj. 

17 Cottage. 
IS Small. 

19 Above. 

20 Who would. 

21 All. 



ROBERT BURNS. 365 



O WAT YE WHA'S IN YON TOWN. 

The heroine of this song Mrs. 0. (formerly Miss Lucy J.) 
died at Lisbon. This most accomplished and lovely wo- 
man was worthy of this beautiful strain of sensibility, 
which will convey some impression of her attractions to 
other generations. The song is written in the character 
of her husband. 



1. 
O WAT^ ye wha's^ in yon town, 

Ye see the e'enin'^ sun upon, 
The fairest dame's in yon town, 

That e'enin' sun is shining on. 

2. 
Now haply down yon gay green shaw : 

She v\ anders by yon spreading tree, 
How blest ye flovv'rs that rt;und her blaw,"* 

Ye catch the glances o'^ her e'e. 

3. 
How blest ye birds that round her sing, 

And welcome in the blooming year. 
And doubly welcome be the spring^. 

The season to my Lucy dear. 

4. 
The sun blinks blythe on yon town, 

And on yon bonnie braes^ of Ayr ; 
But my delight in yon town. 

And dearest bliss is Lucy fair, 

5. 
Without my love, not a'^ the charms, 

O' paradise could yield me joy ; 
But gie* me Lucy in my arms, 

And welcome Lapland's dreary sk}'. 

1 Know. 

2 Who. 
3 Eveninpf. 



4 Blow. 


7 All. 


5 Of her ey*. 


8 Givfl. 


6 liUls 





366 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

6. 
My cave wad^ be a lover's bower, 

Tho' raging winter rent the air ; 
And she a lovely litde flower, 

That I wad tent^ and shelter there. 

7. 

sweet is she in yon town, 

Yon sinkin' sun's gane^ down upon ; 
A fairer than's in yon town, 

His setting beam ne'er shone upon. 

8. 
If angry fate is sworn my foe. 

And suffering I am doom'd to bear ! 

1 careless quit aughf else below. 

But spare me, spare me Lucy dear. 

9. 
For while life's dearest blood is warm, 

Ae* thought frae^ her shall ne'er depart, 
And she — as fairest is her form ! 

She has the truest, kindest heart. 

1 Would. 3 Gone. 5 One. 

2 Watch. 4 Ought. 6 From. 



A RED, RED ROSE. 

1. 

O MY hive's^ like a red, red rose, 
That's newly sprung in June ; 

O my iuve's like the melody 
That's sweetly play'd in tune. 

2. 
As fair art thou, my bonnie lass, 

So deep «n luve am I : 
And I will luve thee still, my dear, 

'Till a' the seas gang^ dry. 

1 Love is. 2 Go. 



ROBERT BURNS. 36r 



3. 
'Till a' the seas gang dry my dear, 

And the rocks melt wi' the sun : 
I will luve thee still my dear, 

While the sands o' life shall run. 

4. 
And fare thee weel,* my only luve ! 

And fare thee weel, a while ! 
And I will come again, my luve, 

Tho' it Were ten thousand mile. 

1 Well. 



SONG. 

1. 

AE^ fond kiss, and then we sever; 
Ae fareweel,^ alas, for ever ! 
Deep in heart- wrung tears Pll pledge thee, 
Warring sighs and groans Pll wage thee. 
Who shall say that fortune grieves him 
While the star of hope she leaves him ? 
Me, nae^ cheerfu' twinkle lights me ; 
Dark despair around benights me. 

2. 
I'll ne'er blame my partial fancy, 
Naething"* could resist my Nancy : 
But to see her, was to love her ; 
Love but her, and Icve for ever. 
Had we never lov'd sae* kindly, 
Had we never lov'd sae blindly, 
Never met — or never parted, 
We had ne'er been broken-hearted. 



1 One. 


4 Nothing, 


2 Farewell. 


5 So, 


3 No cheerful. 





368 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

3. 

Fare thee vveel/ thou first and fairest ! 
Fare thee vveel, thou best and dearest ! 
Thine be ilka- joy and treasure, 
Peace, enjoyment, love, and pleasure ! 
Ae fond kiss, and then we sever ; 
Ae farevveel, alas for ever ! 
Deep in heart vvruns^ tears I'll pledge thee, 
Warring sighs and groans FlI wage thee. 

1 Well. 2 Every, 



EVAN BANKS. 

1. 
SLOW spreads the gloom my soul desires, 
The sun from India'b shore retires ; 
To Evan Banks, with temp'rate ray, 
Home of my youth, he leads. the day. 
Oh banks to me forever dear ! 
Oh streams whose murmurs still I hear ! 
All all my hopes of bliss reside 
W^here Evan mingles with the Clyde. 

2. 
And she, in simple beauty drest, 
Wh(;se ima^e lives within my breast; 
Who trembling heard my parting sigh, 
And long pursued me with her eye ; 
Does she, with heart unchanged as mine, 
Oft in the vocal bovvers recline ? 
Or where yon grot o'erhangs the tide, 
Muse while the Evan seeks the Clyde ? 

3. 
Ye lofty banks that Evan bound ! 
Ye lavish woods that wave around. 
And o'er the stream your shadovvs thro^. 
Which sweetly winds so far below 



ROBERT BURNS. 369 

What secret charm to mem'ry brings, 
All that on Evan's border springs ? 
Sweet banks ! ye bloom by Mary's side : 
Blest stream ! she views thee haste to Clyde. — 

4. 
Can all the wealth of India's coast 
Atone for years in absence lost ? 
Return, ye moments of delight. 
With richer treasures bless my sight ! 
Swift from this desert let me part, 
And fly to meet a kindred heart ! 
Nor more may ought my steps divide 
From that dear stream which flows to Clyde. — 



HERE'S A HEALTH, ^c. 

(A Fragment.) 

1. 
HERE'S a health to them that's awa,^ 
Here's a health to them that's awa ; 
And wha' winna wish gude* luck to our cause, 
May never gude luck be their fa' !** 
It's gude to be merry and wise. 
It's gude to be honest and true. 
It's gude to support Caledonia's cause, 
And bide by the buff" and blue. 

2. 
Here's a health to them that's awa, 
Here's a health to them that's awa ; 
Here's a health to Charlie, the chief o'* the clan, 
Altho' that his band be sma'.® 
May liberty meet wi"' success 1 
May prudence protect her frae® evil ! 
May tyrants and tyranny tine^ in the mist, 
And wander their way to the devil ! 



1 Away. 


4 Lot. 


7 With. 


2 Who will not. 


5 Of. 


8 Frnm. 


1 Good. 


6 Small. 

3a 


9 Be lost. 



370 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

3. 

Here's a health to them that's awa, 

Here's a health to them that's awa, 

Here's a health to Tammie, the Norland laddie. 

That lives at the lug^ o' the law ! 

Here's freedom to him that wad^ read, 

Here's freedom to him that wad write ! 

There's nane^ ever fear'd that the truth should be 

heard, 
But they wham" the truth wad indite. 

4. 
Here's a health to them that's awa, 
Here's a health to them that's awa, 
Here's Chieftain M'Leod, a chieftain worth govvd,* 
Tho' bred amang^ mountains o' snaw ! 
'* * * * 



1 In a state of proximiiy. 3 None. 5 Gold. 

•2 Would. 4 Whom. 6 Among. 



SONG. 

1. 

NOW bank an' brae* are claith'd^ in green, 

An'^ scatter'd cowslips sweetly spring, 
By Girvan's fairy haunted stream 

The birdies flit on wanton wing. 
To Cassillis' banks when e'ening fa's"* 

There wi'^ my Mary let me flee, 
There catch her ilka^ glance of love 

The bonie blink o'^ Mary's e'e I^ 



1 Hilt. 4 Falls. 7 OL 

2 Cloath'd. 5 With. 8 Eye. 

3 And. 6 Every. 



ROBERT BURNS. 371 

2. 
The chiel^ wha^ boasts o' warld's^ walth, 

Is aften* laird o' meikle* care ; 
But Mary she is a'^ my ain, 

Ah, fortune canna^ t^ie me mair ! 
Then let me range by Cassillis' banks, 

Wi' her the lassie dear to me, 
-^nd catch her ilka glance o' love. 

The bonie blink o' Mary's e'e ! 

1 Man. 4 Often. 6 All my own- 

2 Who. 5 Much, 7 Cannot give me more. 

3 World's wealth. 



THE BONIE LAD THAT'S FAR AWA. 

1. 

O HOW can I be blythe and glad, 
Or how can I gang^ brisk and braw,' 

When the bonie lad that 1 lo'e^ best, 
Is o'er the hills and far awa ?"* 

2. 
Its no' the frosty winter wind, 

Its no the driving drift and snaw f 
But ay the tear comes in my e'e,' 

To think on him that's far awa. 

3. 

My father pat* me frae* his door. 

My friends they hae" disown'd me a'«" 

But I hae ane^^ will tak" my part, 
The bonie lad that's far awa. 

1 Go. 6 Snow. 10 Have. 

2 Gaily dressed. 7 Eye. 11 All. 

3 Love. 8 Put. 12 One. 

4 Away. 9 From. 13 Take. 

5 Not. 



3r2 THE POETICAL WORlCS OF 

4. 
A pair o'^ gloves he gave to me, 

And silken snoods'^ he gave me twa f 
And I will wear them for his sake, 

The bonie lad that's far awa. 

5. 

The weary winter soon will pass, 

And spring will deed"* the birken*-shaw ; 

And my sweet babie will be born. 
And he'll come hame^ that's far awa. 

1 Of. 3 Two. 5 Birchen-shaw. 

2 Bands for the hair of 4 Clothe. 6 Home. 

young women. 



SONG. 



1. 

OUT over the Forth I look to the north, 

Put v^hat is the north and its Highlands tome? 

The south nor the east gie^ ease to my breast, 
The far foreign land, or the wild rolling sea. 

2. 
But I look to the west, when I gae^ to rest, 

That happy m} dreams and my slumbers may be; 
For far in the west lives he I lo'e^ best. 

The kd that is dear to my babie and me. 

1 Give. 2 Go. 3 liOve 



ROBERT BURNS. 375 



LINES ON A PLOUGHMAN.* 

As I was a wandering ae^ morning in spring, 
I heard a young Ploughman sae^ sweetly to sing, 
And as he was singin' thir^ words he did say, 
There-s nae life like the Ploughman in the month o'^ 

sweet May. — 
The lav'rock' in the morning she'll rise frae® her 

nest, 
And mount to the air wi'^ the dew on her breast, 
AnJ wi' the merry Ploughman she'll whistle and sing, 
And at night she'll return to her nest back again. 



1 One. 


4 Of. 


6 From. 


2 So. 


5 Lark. 


7 With. 


3 These, 







• It is pleasing to mark those touches of sympathy which shew the sons ot 
genius to beef one kindred. — In the following passage, from the poem of his 
countryman, the same figure is illustrated with characteristic simplicity ; and 
never were the tender and the sublime of poetry more happily united, nor a 
more affectionate tribute paid to the memory of Burns. 

"Thou simple bird. 

Of all the vocal quire, dwell'sl in a home 
The humblest; yet thy morning song ascends 
Near- st to heaven ; Sweet emblem of his song"|" 
Who sung the wakening by the daisy's side ! 

Graham^s Birds of Scotland, Vol. II. p. 4. 

f Burns. 



WHISTLE O'ER THE LAVE O'T.. 

I. 
FIRST when Maggy was my care, 
Heaven, I thought, was in her air ; 
Now we're married — spier^ nae mair — 

Whistle o^er the lav e^ o't.— * 

1 Ask no raorft, 2 Remainder 



374 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

Meg was meek, and Meg was mild, 
Bonie Meg was nature's child — 
— Wiser men than me's beguilM ; 

Whistle o'er the lave o't= 

2. 
How we live, my Meg and me, 
How we love and how we 'gree, 
I care na^ by how few may see ; 

Whistle o'er the lave o't- 
Wha^ I wish were Maggot's meat, 
Dish'd up in her winding sheet, 
I could write — but Meg wad^ see 't — 

Whistle o'er the lave o't- 

1 Not. 2 "Would. 3 Who. 



I'LL AY CA' IN BY YON TOWN. 

1. 
I'LL ay ca'^ in by yon town, 

And by yon, garden green, again , 
I'll ay ca' in by yon town. 

And see my bonie Jean again. 

2. 
There's nane^ salP ken, there's nane sail guess,' 

What brings me back the gate^ again, 
But she's my fairest faithfu'* lass, 

And stownlins^ we sail meet again. 

o 
• O. 

She'll wander by the aiken^ tree, 

W^hen trystin^-time draws near again ; 

And when her lovely form I see, 
O haith^ she's doubly dear again ! 

8 Meeting time previ 
ously appointed. 

9 Petty oath. 



1 Call. 


5 Faithful. 


2 None. 


6 Privately 


3 Shall know. 


7 Oaken. 


4 Wav. 





ROBERT BURNS. 375 



YOUNG JOCKEY. 

1. 
YOUNG Jockey was the blythest lad 

In a'^ our town or here avva f 
Fu'^ blythe he whistled at the gad/ • 

Fu' lightly danc'd he in the ha' !* 
He roos'd^ my e'en' sae^ bonie blue, 

He roos'd my waist sae genty^ sma ; 
An'*° ay my heart came to my mou," 

When ne'er a body heard or saw. 

2. 
My Jockey toils upon the plain, 

Thro' wind and weet,^* thro' frost and snaw ;^^ 
And o'er the lee I leuk^* fu' fain 

When Jockey's owsen^' hameward ca' 
An' ay the night comes round again, 

When in his arms he taks'*^ me a' ; 
An' ay he vows he'll be my ain" 

As Ian Of" as he has breath to draw. 



1 All A 


J^ 


^1^8 So. 


14 Look. 


2 Awfl 


i 


W^ y Neatly small. 


15 Oxea homeward 


3 Fulfl 


3 


W^ 10 And always. 


drive. 


4 Goacfl 

5 Hall. 1 


^ 

J 


n^iil^il Moutli. 
^ 12 Rain. 


16 Takes me all. 

17 Own. 


G Praiad 
7 Eyd^ 


i^ 


|||L^3Snow. 


18 LonR. 



M'PHERSON'S FAREWELL. 

M'Pherson, a daring robber, (though of a noble family,) in the 
beginning of the sixteenth century, was condemned to be 
hanged at the assizes at Inverness. He is said, when un- 
der sentence of death, to have composed this tune, which 
he called his own Lament, or Farewell, for which Burns 
wrote the following verses : — 



376 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

1. 
FAREWELL ye dunj^eons dark and strong, 

The wretch's destinie ! 
M'Pherson's time will not be long, 
On yonder gallows tree. 

Sae^ rantingly, sae wantonly, 
Sae dauntingly^ gaed^ he ; 
He play'd a spring and dancM it round, 
Below the gallows tree. 

2. 
Ob, what is death but parting breath ? — 

. On mcmy* a bloody plain 
I've dar'd his face, and in this place 
I scorn him yet again ! 

Sae rantingly, &c. 

3. 
Untie these bands from off my hands, 

And bring to me my sword; 
And there's not a man in all Scotland, 
But I'll brave him at a word. 

Sae rantingly, Sec. 
'^. 
4. 

I've liv'd a life of sturt* and strife ; 

I die by treacherie ; 
It burns my heart I must depart 

And not avenged be. 

Sae rantingly, Soe. 

5. 
Now farewell light, thou sunshine b^jgh"* 

And all beneath the sky ! 
May coward shame distain his name. 
The wretch that dares not die ! 

Sae rantingly, &c, 

1 So. 3 Went. 5 Vexation. 

1 Dauntless. \ Many, 



ROBERT BURNS. 377 



SONG. 



It is conjectured bj Cromek to whose researches the world 
is indebted for this delightful effusion of Burns, that it 
was written on Highland Mary, on the eve of the Poet's 
departure for the West Indies. Although Mary had been 
dead some years, yet the disappointed affections of the 
Bard would naturally recur to the object of his first love, 
and yielding to the illusions of fancy, forget for a while 
that her " form sae fair and faultless," reposed in the dark 
and " narrow house" of death. 



1. 
POWERS celestial, whose protection 

Ever guards the virtuous fair, 
While in distant climes I wander, 

Let my Mary be your care : 
Let her form sae fair and faultless, 

Fair and faultless as your own ; 
Let my Mary's kindred spirit, 

Dtaw vour choicest influence down. 

Make the gale^ you waft around her 

So^ft and peaceful as her breast ; 
Breathing ifi the breeze that fans her, 

Sooth her bosom into rest : 
Guardian angels, O protect her, 

When in distant lands I roam : 
To realms unknown while fate exiles me, 

Make her bosom still my home. 



3 B 



378 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 



YOUNG PEGGY. 

This is one of the Poet's earliest compositions. It is copied 
from a MS. book, which he had, before his first publication. 



1. 
YOUNG Peggy blooms our boniest lass, 

Her blush is like the morning, 
The rosy dawn, the springing grass, 

With early gems adorning : 
Her eyes outshine the radiant beams 

That gild the passing shower, 
And glitter o'er the crystal streams, 

And cheer each fresh'ning flower. 

2. 
Her lips more than the cherries bright, 

A richer die has grac'd them, 
They charm th' admiring gazer's sight 

And sweetly tempt to taste them ^ 
Her smile is as the ev'ning mild, 

When feather'd pairs are courting, 
And little lambkins wanton wild, 

In playful bands disporting. 

3. 
Were Fortune lovely Peggy's foe^ 

Such sweetness would relent her, 
As blooming spring unbends the brow, 

Of surly, savage winter. 
Detraction's eye no aim can gain 

Her winning power's to lessen : 
And fretful envy grins in vain, 

The poison'd tooth to fasten. 



ROBERT BURNS. 3/9 



4. 

Ye pow'rs of Honor, Love, and Truth, 

Frorn ev'ry ill defend her ; 
Inspire the highly favor'd youth 

The destinies intend her : 
Still fan the sweet connubial flame 

Responsive in each bosom ; 
And bless the dear parental name 

With many a filial blossom. 



AFTON WATER. 

1. 
FLOW gently sweet Afton among thy green braes,' 
Flow gently, Pll sing thee a song in thy praise ; 
My Mary's asleep by thy murmuring stream, 
Flow gently, sweet Afton, disturb not her dream. 

2. 
Thou stock dove whose echo resounds thro' the 

glen. 
Ye wild whistling blackbirds in yon thorny den, 
Thou green crested lapwing thy screaming forbear, 
I charge you disturb not my slumbering fair. 

3. 
How lofty, sweet Afton, thy neighbouring hills, 
Far mark'd with the courses of clear, winding rills ; 
There daily I wander as noon rises high. 
My flocks and my Mary's sweet cot in my eye. 

4. 
How pleasant thy banks and green vallies below. 
Where wild in the woodlands the primroses blow ; 
There oft as mild evening weeps over the lea. 
The sweet scented birk^ shades my Mary and me. 

1 Banks. 2 Biicli. 



iiSB THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

5. 
Thy crystal stream, Afton, how lovely it glides, . 
And winds by the cot where my Mary resides;* 
How wanton thy v\ alcrs her snowy feet lave, 
As gathering sweet flowerets she stems thy clear 
wave. 

6. 
Flow gently, sweet Afton among thy green braes, 
Flow gently, sweet river, the theme of my lays, 
My Mary's asleep by thy murmuring stream. 
Flow gently, sweet Afton, disturb not her dream. 

* Afton Water Is the stream on which stands .\fton-Loilge : to which Mrs. 
StPWart removed from Staii'. — Ab«i^ Lodge was \Jrs. Slewait's property 
from her father. The song was jnesented to iier in return for her notice, the 
first he ever received from anj person in her rai.k of life. 



THE LEA RIG. 

1. 
WHEN o'er the hill the eastern star, 

Tells bnglitin^ time is near, my jo f 
And ousen^ frae"* the furrow'd field, 

Return sae* dowf and weary O : 
Down by the burn,^ where scented birks" 

Wi'^ dew are hanging clear, my jo, 
I'll meet thee on the lea-rig,^ 

My ain*° kind dearie O. 
2. 

In mirkest^^ g^en, at midnight hour, 
I'd rove, and ne'er be eerie^* O, 

If thro' that glen I gaed^^ to thee, 
My ain kind dearie O. 



I Ewe-milking. 


6 Rivulet. 


10 Own. 


2 Love. 


7 Birches. 


11 Darkest. 


T) Oxen. 


8 With. 


1'2 Timorous 


4 From. 


9 Grassy ridge. 


IS Went. 


*i So dull- 







ROBERT BURNS. 381 

Altho' the night were ne'er so wild, 

And I were ne'er so wearie O, 
I'd meet thee on the lea-rig, 

My ain kind dearie O. 

3. 
The hunter lo'es^ the morning sun, 

To rouse the mountain deer, my jo : 
At noon the fisher seeks the glen, 

Along the burn to steer, my jo ; 
Gie^ me the hour o'^ gloamin grey. 

It maks^ my heart sae* cheery, O, 
To meet thee on the lea-rig, 

My ain kind dearie, O. 

1 Loves. 3 Of twilight. 5 So. 

2 Give. 4 Makes. 



DOWN THE BURN DAVIE. 

1. 

As down the burn' they took their way, 

And thro' the flowery dale ; 
His cheek to hers he aft* did lay, 

And love was ay the tale. 

2. 
With " Mary, when shall we return, 

Sic"^ pleasures to renew ?" 
Quoth Mary, " Love, I like the burn, 

And ay shall follow you.'^ 

1 Rivulet, 9. Oft. 3 Such, 



38:2 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

i 

WHEN WILD WAR'S DEADLY BLAST, £2?c. 



Mr.—" The Mill Mill 0." 

1. 
WHEN wild war's deadly blast was blawn,* 

And f.,entle peace returning, 
Wi' mony^ a sweet babe fatherless, 

And mony a widow mourning ; 
I left the lines and tented field, 

Where lang^ I'd been a lodger, 
My humble knapsack a'"* my wealth, 

A poor and honest sodger.* 

2. 

A leal,® light heart was in my breast, 

Ml hand unstain'd wi'^ plunder ; 
And for fair Scotia, hame^ again, 

1 ' heery on did wander. 
I thought upon the banks o'^ Coil, 

I thought upon my Nancy, 
I thought upon the witching smile 

That caught my youthful fancy. 

3. 
At length I reach'd the bonny glen. 

Where early life I sported ; 
I pass'd the mill, and trysting^" thorn, 

Where Nancy aft" I courted : 
Wha*^ spied I but my ain^^ dear maid, 

Do;\ n by her mother's dwelling ! 
And tiirn'd me round to hide the flood 

That in my een^"* was swelling 



1 Blown. 

2 Many. 

3 Long, 

4 All. 

5 Soldier. 10 The lover's meeting place. 



6 Loyal. 


11 Oft. 


7 With. 


12 Who 


8 Home. 


13 Own. 


9 Of. 


14 Eye. 



ROBERT BURNS. 38i 

4. 
Wi' altered voice, quoth I, sweet lass, 

Sweet as yon hawthorn blossom, 
O ! haj)py, liappy may he be, 

That's dearest to thy bosom: 
My purse is hght, I've far to gang/ 

And fain wad^ be thy lodger ; 
I've serv'd my king and countra^ lang. 

Take pity on a sodger. 

5. 

Sae" wistfully she gaz'd on me, 

And lovelier was than ever ; 
Quo' she, a sodger ance* I lo'ed, 

Forget him shall I never: 
Our humble cot, and hamely^ fare, 

Ye freely shall partake it, 
That gallant badge, the dear cockade, 

Ye're welcome for the sake o't. 

6. 
She gaz'd— she redden'd like a rose — ■ 

Syne^ pale like ony^ lily ; 
She sank within my arms and cried, 

Art thou my ain dear Willie? 
By him who made yon sun and sky — 

By whom true love's regarded, 
r am the man ; and thus may still 

True lovers be rewarded. 

7. 
Tiie wars are o'er, and I'm come hame, 

And find thee still true-hearted ; 
Tho' poor in gear,'* v\ e're rich in love, 

And mair^" we'se ne'er be parted. 
Quo' she, my grandsire left me gowd,^'' 

A mailin'^ plenish'd^- fairly ; 

1 Go. 

2 Would. 

3 Country long-. 

4 So. 

5 Once I lov'd. 



C Homely. 


10 More. 


7 Then. 


11 Gold. 


8 Any. 


12 Farm. 


9 Wealth, 


13 Stocked 



384 THE POETICAL WORKS Olf 

And come, my faithful sodger lad 
Thou'rt welcome to it dearly ! 

8. 
For gold the merchant ploughs the main. 

The farmer ploughs the manor ; 
But glory is the sodger's prize,. 

The sodger's wealth is honour ; 
The brave poor sodger ne'er despise. 

Nor count him as a stranger, 
Remember he's his country's stay 

In day and hour of danger. 



TO MARY IN HEAVEN. 

Of this first love of the Poet, we are indebted to Mr. Cromek 
for a brief, but very striking account, from the pen of the 
Poet himself. In a note on an early song inscribed to this 
mistress, he had recorded in a MS. book. 

" This was a composition of mine in very early life, before I 
was known at all in the world. My Highland lassie was 
a warm-hearted, charming young creature, as ever blessed 
a man with generous love. After a pretty long tract of 
the most ardent reciprocal attachment, we met by appoint- 
ment, on the second Sunday of May, in a sequestered spot 
by the banks of Ayr, where we spent the day in taking a 
farewell, before she should embark for the West Highlands, 
to arrange matters among her friends for our projected 
change of life. At the close of autumn following, she 
crossed the sea to meet me at Greenock, where she had 
scarce landed, when she was seized with a malignant 
fever, which hurried my dear girl to the grave in a few 
days, before I could even hear of her illness." 

There are events in this transitory scene of existence 
seasons of joy or of sorrow, of despair or of hope, which 
as they powerfully affect us at the time, serve as epochs 
to the history of our lives. They may be termed the trials 
of the heart. We treasure them deeply in our memory, 
and, as time glides silently away, they help us to number 
our days. Of this character, was the parting of Bums 
with his Highland Mary, that interesting female, the first 
object of the youthful Poet's love. This adieu was per- 
formed with all those simple and striking ceremonials, 
which rustic sentiment has devised to prolong tender emo- 



ROBERT BURNS. 385 

tions and to inspire awe. The lovers stood on each side 
of a small purling brook ; they laved their hands in its 
limpid stream, and holding; a bible between them, pro- 
nounced their vows to be ifaithful to each other. They 
parted — never to meet again ! 
The anniversary of Mary CampheWs death, (for that was her 
name,) awakening in the sensitive mind of Burns the most 
lively emotions, hfe retired from his family, then residing 
on the farm of Ellisland, and wandered, solitary, on the 
banks of the Nith, and about the farm-yard, in the extrem- 
est agitation of mind, nearly the whole of the night : his 
agitation was so great, that he threw himself on the side of 
a corn-stack, and there conceived his sublime and tender 
elegy — his address to Mary in Heaven. Ed; 

1. 
THOU lingering star, with lessening ray, 

That lov'st to greet the early morn, 
Again thou usher'st in the day 

My Mary from my soul was torn. 

2. 
O Mzfry ! dear departed shade ! 

Where is thvplace of blissful rest ? 
See'st thou thy%ver lowly laid? 

Hear'st thou the groans that rend his breast ? 



That sacred hour can I forget, 

Can I forget the hallowed grove. 
Where by the winding Ayr we met, 

To live one day of parting love ! 

4. 
Eternity will not efface, 

Those records dear of transports past 5 
Thy image at our last embrace ; 

Ah ! little thoug^ht we 'twas our last ! 

5. 
Ayr gurgling kiss'd his pebbled shore, 

O'erhung with wild woods, thickening green; 
The fragrant birch, and hawthorn hoar, 
Twin'd am'rous round the rapturM scene. 
3c 



386 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

6. 

The flowers sprang wanton to be prest, 
The birds sang love on ev'ry spray, 

'Till too, too soon the glowing west, 
Proclaim'd the speed of winged day. 

7. "■ 

Still o'er these scenes my mem'ry wakes, 

And fondly broods with miser care ; 
Time but the impression deeper makes, 

As streams their channels deeper wear. 

8. 
My Mary dear departed shade ! 

Where is thy blissful place of rest ? 
See'st thou thy lover lowly laid ? 

Hear'st thou the groans that rend his breast ? 



HIGHLAND MARY. 

Tune. — " Catharine Ogie." 

Tliis beautiful and interesting piece, is written in Burns' 
happiest manner. For an account of his lamented High- 
land Mary, see the note to " Mary in Heaven." 

1. 

YE banks, and braes, ^ and streams around, 

The castle o'* Montgomery, 
Green be your woods, and fiiir your flowers, 

Your waters never drumlie !' 
There simmer"* first unfanlds* her robes, 

And there they langes.* tarry ; 
For there I took the last fareweel' 

O' my sweet Highland Mary. 



1 Hills. 


4 Summer. 


6 Longest. 


2 Of. 


5 Unfolds. 


7 Farewell 


3 Muddy. 







ROBERT BURNS. 387 

2. 
How sweetly bloom'd the gay, green birk,^ 

How rich the hawthorn's blossom ; 
As underneath their fragrant shade, 

I clasp'd her to my bosom ! 
The golden hours, on angel wings. 

Flew o'er me and my dearie ; 
For dear to me, as light and life, 

Was my sweet Highland Mary. 

3. 
Wi'^ mony a vow, and lock'd embrace. 

Our parting was fu'^ tender ; 
And pledging aft* to meet again, 

We tore ourseis* asunder ; 
But Oh ! fell death's untimely frost, 

That nipt my flower sae^ early ! 
Now green's the sod, and cauld's^ the clay, 

That wraps my Highland Mary ! 

4. 
O pale, pale now, those rosy lips, 

I aft hae^ kiss'd sae fondly ! 
And closed for ay^ the sparkling glance, 

That dwelt on me sae kindly ! 
An#iT»ouldering now in silent dust. 

That heart that lo'ed^* me dearly I 
But still within my bosom's core. 

Shall live my Highland Mary. 



1 Birch. 


5 Ourselves. 


8 Have. 


2 With. 


6 So. 


9 Ever. 


3 Full. 


7 Celd. 


10 Lov'd. 


4 0ft. 







388 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

FAIR JENNY. 

Tune,—'' Saw Ye My Father." 

1. 

WHERE are the joys I have met in the morning, 
That danc'd to the lark's early song ? 

Where is the peace that awaited my wandering, 
At evening the wild woods among ? 

2. 
No more a-winding the course of yon river, 

And marking sweet flow 'rets so fair ; 
No more I trace the light footsteps of pleasure, 

But sorrow and sad-sighing care. 

3. 
Is it, that summer's forsaken our vallies. 

And grim surly winter is near ? 
No, no, the bees humming round the gay roses, 

Proclaim it the pride of the year. 

4. 
Fain would I hide what I fear to discover, ^ 

Yet long too well have I known, 
All that has caused this wreck in my bosom, 

Is Jenny, fair Jenny alone. 

5. 
Time cannot aid me, my griefs are immortal, 

Nor hope dare a comfort bestow : 
Come then, enanour'd and fond of my anguish, 

Enjoyment I'll seek in my woe. 



ROBERT BURNS. 389 



SIC A WIFE AS WILLIE HAD. 

1. 
WILLIE Wastle dwelt on Tweed, 

The spot they ca'd^ it Linkumdoddie, 
Willie was a wabster^ gude, 

Cou'd stown^ a cine wi''* ony bodie; 
He had a wife was dour* and din,^ 
O tinkler^ Madgie was her mither f 
Sic^ a ivife as IFiUie had^ 

Iwad^° nagiea button for her. 

2. 
She has aii e'e," she has but ane,^^ 

The cat has twa" the very colour ; 
Five rusty teeth forbye^'' a stump, 

A clapper tongue wad deave a miller ; 
A whiskin' beard about her mou,^* 

Her nose and chin they threaten ither;^^ 
Sic a wife f ^c. 

3. 
She's bow-hough'd, she's hein*^ shinn'd, 

Ae" limpin' leg a hand breed'^ shorter : 
She's twisted right, she's twisted left, 

To balance fair in ilka^° quarter : 
She has a hump upon her breast, 

The twin o'^^ that upon her shouther.^- 
Sic a ivife ^c. 

4. 
Auld^3 baudrans by the ingle^^ sits, 
An^^ vvi' her loof her face a washin' ; 

1 Called. 

2 Weaver good. 

3 Have stolen. 

4 With any. 

5 Stubborn. 

6 Dun. 

7 Tinker. 

8 Mother. 

9 -Such. 



10 Would not give. 


18 One. 


11 Eye. 


19 Breadth. 


I'i One. 


20 Every. 


13 Two. 


21 Of. 


14 Besides. 


22 Shoulder. 


15 Month. 


23 The old cat. 


16 Each other. 


24 f'ire. 


17 Spare. 


25 And with her paw 



39a THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

But Willie's wife is nae^ sae trig, 

She dit^hts her sjrunzie^ wi' a hushion f 
Her walie^ nieves like midden-creels/ 
Her face wad^ fyle the Loi^an-water ; 
Sic a wife as Wilhe had, 

Iwadnagie a button for her. 

1 Not 80. 3 Old stocking. 5 Dung-panoieis 

2 Pace. 4 Large fists. 6 Sully. 



SONG. 

Tune — " Logan Water." 

Have you ever, my dear Sir, (says Burns in his letter to Mr. 
Thomson,) felt your bosom ready to burst with indigna- 
tion, on reading of those mighty villains who divide king- 
dom against kingdom, desolate provinces, and lay na- 
tions waste, out of the wantoness of ambition, or often 
from still more ignoble passions } In a mood of this kind 
to-day, I recollected the air of Logan Water ; and it oc- 
curred to me that its querulous melody probably had its 
origin from the plaintive indignation of some swelling, 
suffering heart, fired at the tyrannic strides of some public 
destroyer ; and overwhelmed with private distress, the 
consequence of a country's ruin. If I have done any 
thing at all like justice to my feelings, the following song, 
composed in three-quarters of an hour's meditation iu my 
elbow chair, ought to have some merit. 



1. 
O LOGAN, sweetly didst thou glide, 
That day I was my Willie's bride ; 
And years sinsyne^ hae^ o'er us run. 
Like Logan to the simmer^ sun. 

1 Since. 2 Have. 3 Sarataer. 



ROBERT BURNS. 391 

But now thy flovv'ry banks appear 
Like drumlie* winter, dark and drear, 
While my dear lad maun^ face his faes,^ 
Far, far frae^ me and Logan braes/ 

2. 

Again the merry month o'^ May 
Has made our hills and valleys gay ; 
The birds rejoice in leafy bowers, 
The bees hum round the breathing flowers : 
Blithe, morning lifts his rosy eye. 
And evening's tears are tears of joy : 
My soul, delightless, a'^ surveys. 
While Willie's far frae Logan braes. 

3. 
Within yon milk-white hawthorn bush, 
Amang' her nestlings sits the thrush ; 
Her faithfu'^ mate will share her toil, 
Or wi' his songs her cares beguile : 
But I wi'^° my sweet nurslings here, 
Nae^* mate to help, nae mate to cheer. 
Pass widow'd nights and joyless days, 
While Willie's far frae Logan braes. 

4. 
O wae*^ upon you, men o' state. 
That brethren rouse to deadly hate ! 
As ye make mony*^ a fond heart mourn, 
Sae^"* may it on your heads return! 
How can your flinty hearts enjoy 
The widow's tear, the orphans' cry ?* 
But soon may peace bring happy days. 
And Willie hame'* to Logan braes I 

U No. 

12 Woe, 

13 Many. 

14 So. 

15 Home. 

• Originally, 

" Yt mind na, 'mid your cruel joys, 
rhe widow's tears, the orphans' cries." Ed. 



1 Gloomy. 


6 Of. 


2 Must. 


7 All. 


3 Foes. 


8 Among. 


4 From. 


9 Faitlitul, 


a Banks. 


10 With. 



S92 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 



SONG. 

1. 
'TWAS na^ her bonie blue e'e' was my ruin; 
Fair tho' she be, that was ne'er my L.nciomg : 
'Twas the dear smile when naebody^ did rnnid us, 
Tvvas the bewitching, sweet, stovvn* glance o'* kind- 
ness. 

2. 
Sair^ do I fear, that to hope is denied me, 
Sair do I fear, that despair maun^ abide me ; 
But tho' fell fortune should fate us to sever, 
Queen she shall be in my bosom for ever. 

3. 
Mary, I'm thine wi'* a passion sincerest, 
And thou hast plighted me love o' the dearest ; 
And thou'rt the angel that never can alter. 
Sooner the sun in his motion would falter. 

1 Not. 4 Stolen. 7 Must, 

2 Eye. 5 Of. 8 With. 

3 Nobody. 6 Much, 



SHE SAYS SHE LO'ES ME BEST OF A' 

1. 
SAE^ flaxen were her ringlets, 

Her eyebrows of a darker hue, 
Bewitchingly o'er-arching 

Twa^ laughing een^ o' bonie blue. 
Her smiling sae wyling,* 

Wad^ make a wretch forget his woe ; 
What pleasure, what treasure. 

Unto these rosy lips to grow : 

1 So. 3 Eyes of. 5 Would. 

2 Two. 4 Enticing. 



ROBERT BURNS. 393 

Such was my Chloris' bonie face, 

When first her bonie face I saw, 
And ay my Chloris' clearest charm, 

She says she lo'es* me best of a'." 

2. 
Like harmony her motion ; 

Her pretty ancle is a spy 
Betraying fair proportion, 

Wad make a saint forget the sky. 
Sae warming, sae charming. 

Her faultless form and gracefu' air 5 
Ilk^ feature — auld'* nature 

Declar'd that she could do nae' mair : 
Her's are the willing chains o' love. 

By conquering beauty's sovereign law ; 
And ay my Chloris' dearest charm, 

She says she lo'es me best of a'. 

3. 
Let others love the city, 

And gaudy shew at sunny noon; 
Gie^ me the lonely valley. 

The dewy eve, and rising moon 
Fair beaming, and streaming. 

Her silver light the boughs amang ;^ 
While falling, recalling, 

The amorous thrush concludes his sang :* 
There dearest Chloris, wilt thou rove 

By wimpling^ burn and leafy shaw, 
And hear my vows o'^o truth and love, 

And say thou lo'est me best of a'. 

1 Loves. 5 No more. 9 Meandering rivulet. 

2 All. 6 Give. 10 Of. 

3 Every, 7 Among. 

4 Old. 8 Song. 



3 D 



394 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

SONG. 

Tunt — " Humours of Glen." 

1. 
THEIR groves o'^ sweet myrtle let foreign lands- 
reckon, 
Where bright-beaming summers exalt the per- 
fume, 
Far dearer to me yon lone glen o^ green breckan,^ 
Wi'^ the burn" stealing under the lang* yellow 
broom : 
Far dearer to me are yon humble broom bowers, 
Where the blue bell and gowan^ lurk lowly un- 
seen : 
For there, lightly tripping amang^ the wild flowerS; 
A listening the linnet, aft^ wanders my Jean. 

2. 
Tho' rich is the breeze in their gay sunny vallies, 
And cauld^ Caledonia's blast on the wave; 
Their sweet-scented woodlands that skirt the proud 
palace. 
What are they ? The haunt o' the tyrant and slavej 
The slave's spicy forests, and gold-bubbling foun- 
tains. 
The brave Caledonian views wi' disdain ; 
He wanders as free as the winds of his mountains^ 
Save love's willing fetters, the chains o' his Jeauo 

1 Of. 4 Rivulet. 7 Among. 

2 Fern. 5 Long. 8 Oft. 

3 With. 6 Mountain daisy. 9 Cold. 



LORD GREGORY. 

1. 
O MIRK,^ mirk is this midnight hour. 
And loud the tempest's roar, 

1 Dark, 



ROBERT BURNS. 395 

A waefu'^ wanderer seeks thy tower, 
Lord Gregory ope thy door. 

2. 
An exile frae^ her father's ha',* 

And a'* for loving thee : 
At least some pity on me shaw,^ 

If love it may na^ be. 

3. 
Lord Gregory, mind'st thou not the grove, 

By bonie Irvvine-side, 
Where first I own'd that virgin-love 

I lang'' lang had denied. 

4. 
How aften didst thou pledge and vow, 

Thou wad^ for ay be mine : 
And my fond heart, itseF sae true, 

It ne'er mistrusted thine. 

5. 
Hard is thy heart, Lord Gregory, 

And flinty is thy breast ; 
Thou dart of heav'n that flashest by, 

O wilt thou give me rest. 

6. 
Ye mustering thunders from above 

Your willing victim see ! 
But spare, and pardon my fause^° love, 

His wrangs^^ to heaven and me. 

1 Woeful. 5 Show. 9 Itself so. 

2 From. 6 Not. . 10 False. 

3 Hall. 7 Long. 11 Wroags. 

4 All. 8 Would. 



396 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

MY NANIE'S AWA. 

Tune. — " There'll never be peace," &c. 

1. 

NOW in her green mantle blythe nature arrays, 
And listens the lambkins that bleat o'er the braes,* 
While birds warble welcome in ilka* green shaw; 
But to me its delightless — my Nanie's awa.^ 

2. 
'The snaw-drap" and primrose our woodlands adorn, 
And violets bathe in the weet* o' the morn ; 
They pain my sad bosom, sae^ sweetly they blaw,^ 
They mind me o' Nanie — and Nanie's aw a. 

3. 

Thou lav'rock^ that springs frae" the dews of the lawn, 
The shepherd to warn o'^° the grey- breaking dawn, 
And thou mellow mavis" that hails the night fa',^^ 
Give over for pity — my Nanie's awa. 

4. 
Come autumn sae pensive, in yellow and grey, 
And soothe me wi"^ tidings o' nature's decay: 
The dark, dreary winter, and wild-driving snaw, 
Alane" can delight me — now Nanie's awa. 



1 Hills. 


6 So. 


11 Thrush 


2 Every. 


7 Blow. 


12 Fall. 


3 Awav. 


8 Lark. 


13 With. 


4 Snow drop. 


9 From. 


14 Alone. 


5 Wet. 


10 Of. 





BALLAD. 

Tunt — " The Lothian Lassie." 

1. 
LAST May a braw^ wooer cam- down the lang^ glen, 
And sair"* wi' his love he did deave me ; 

1 Hant'some. .3 Long. 

2 Came 4 Sore with. 



ROBERT BURNS. 39r 

I said there was naething^ I hated like men, 

The deuce gae* wi' 'm, to beUeve me, believe me, 
The deuce gae wi' 'm, to beHeve me. 

2. 
He spak^ o' the darts in my bonie black een/ 

And vow'd for my love he was dying ; 
I said he might die, when he liked, for Jean, 

The L — d forgie* me for lying, for lying, 

The L — d forgie me for lying ! 

3. 
A uell-stocked mailen,® himself for the laird, 

And marriage aff-hand,' were his proffers: 
I never loot^ on that I kend' it, or car'd. 

But thought I might hae" waur offers, waur offers, 

But thought 1 might hae waur offers. 

4. 
But what wad" ye think ? in a fortnight or less, 

The deil tak^^ his taste to go near her ! 
He up the lang^^ loan to my black cousin Bess, 
Guess ye how, the jad ! I could bear her, could 

bear her, 
Guess ye how, the jad! I could bear her. 

5. 
But a'** the niest" week as I fretted wi'^^ care, 

I gaed'^ to the tryste^^ o' Dalgarnock,* 
And wha'^^ but my fine fickle lover was there, 

I glowrM^° as I'd seen a warlock,^^ a warlock, 

I glowr'd as I'd seen a warlock. 

6. 
But owre*^ my left shouther^^ I gae^* him a blink, 
Lest neebors^* might say I was saucy ; 



I Nothing. 


10 Have worse. 


18 Fair. 


S Go with him. 


11 Would. 


19 Who. 


3 S|)oke. 


1-2 Take. 


iiO Stared. 


4 Eyes. 


13 Long lane. 


21 Wizz.rd. 


5 Forgive. 


U All. 


22 Ov-r. 


6 Farm. 


15 Next. 


23 Shoulder. 


7 Offhand. 


16 With. 


24 Gave. 


8 Seemed to observe. 


17 Went. 


25 Neighbours. 


9 Knew. 







• Dalgarnock is the name of a romantic spot near to the Nith, where are 
still a ruined church and a burial ground. 



398 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

My wooer he caper'd as he'd been in drink, 
And vow'd I was his dear lassie, dear lassie, 
And vow'd I was his dear lassie. 

7. 

I spier'd^ for my cousin fu'^ couthy and sweet, 
Gin^ she had recover'd her hearin', 

And how her new shoon"* fit her auld* shachl't feet, 
But, heavens I how he fell a swearin', a swearin', 
But, heavens ! how he fell a swearin'. 

8. 
He begged, for Gudesake ! I wad® be his wife, 

Or else I wad kill him wi' sorrow : 
So e'en to preserve the poor body in life 

I think I maun^ wed him to-morrow, to-morrow, 

I think I maun wed him to-morrow. 

1 Enquired. 4 Shoes. 6 Would. 

2 Full kindly. 5 Old-distorted. 7 Must. 

3 If. 



MEG O' THE MILL. 



Jlir — " Bonnie Lass will you lie in a Barrack." 

1. 
O KEN^ ye what Meg o" the Mill has gotten. 
An' ken ye what Meg o' the Mill has gotten ? 
She has gotten a coof^ wi' a claut o' siller. 
And broken the heart o' the barley Miller. 

2. 
The Miller was strappin," the Miller was ruddy : 
A heart like a lord and a hue like a lady : 
The laird was a widdiefu',* bleerit'' knurl; 
She's left the gude^- fellow and ta'en the churl. 

1 Know. 4 Tall and handsome. 

2 Of. 5 Wrathful. 

' 3 Blockhead with a mean 6 Bleared dwarf, 

gathering of money. 7 Good fellow. 









5 So. 


8 Courtship, 


6 Farm. 


9 Give. 


7 Dowry. 


10 World. 



ROBERT BURNS. 39^ 

3. 
The miller he hecht^ her, a heart leaP and loving : 
The laird did address her wi' matter mair^ moving, 
A fine pacing-horse wi' a clear chain'd bridle, 
A whip by her side, and a bonie side-saddle. 

4. 
O wae^ on the siller, it is sae* prevailing ; 
And wae on the love that's fix'd on a mailin !** 
A tocher's^ nae word in a true lover's parle,* 
But, gie^ me my love, and a fig for the warl !^* 



1 Proffered. 

2 True, 

3 More. 

4 Wo. 



SONG. 

1. 
MY Peggy's face, my Peggy's form, 
The frost of hermit age might warm ; 
My Peggy's worth, my Peggy's mind, 
Might charm the first of human kind. 
I love my Pegg3''s angel air, 
Her face so truly, heavenly fair, 
Her native grace so void of art 
But I adore my Peggy's hearts 

2. 
The lily's hue, the rose's dye, 
The kindling lustre of an eye ; 
Who but owns their magic sway^ 
Who but knows they all decay! 
The tender thrill the pitying tear, 
The generous purpose nobly dear. 
The gentle look, that rage disarms^ 
These are all immortal charms. 



400 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 



AULD ROB MORRIS. 

1. 
THERE'S auld* Rob Morris that wons^ in yon glen, 
He's the king o'^ gude fellows, and wale"* of auld 

men ; 
He has govvd* in his coffers, he has owsen* and kine. 
And ae' bonie lassie, his darling and mine. 

2. 

She's fresh as the morning, the fairest in May ; 
She's sweet as the ev'ning amang^ the new hay : 
As blythe and as artless as the lambs on the lea, 
And dear to my heart as the light to my e'e.^ 

3. 

But Oh ! she's an heiress, auld Robin's a laird, 
And my daddie has nought but a cot-house and yard; 
A wooer like me maunna^° hope to come speed, 
The wounds I must hide that will soon be my dead. 

4. 
The day comes to me, but delight brings me nana ;" 
The night comes to me, but my rest it is gane :^* 
I wander my lane" like a night troubled ghaist," 
And I sigh as my heart it wad^* burst in my breast. 

5. 

had she but been of a lower degree, 

1 then might hae^^ hop'd she wad smil'd upon me ! 
O, how past descriving" had then been my bliss, 
As now my distraction no words can express ! 

1 Old. 

2 Dwells. 

3 Of good, 

4 Choice. 

5 Gold. 
$ Oxen. 



7 One. 


13 Alone. 


8 Among. 


14 Ghost. 


9 Ey. . 


15 Would. 


10 Must not. 


16 Have 


11 None. 


17 DescribiDf. 


12 Gone. 





ROBERT BURNS. 401 

THE BANKS O' BOON.* 

YE banks and braes^ o' bonnie Doon, 

How can y£ bloom sae^ fresh and fair ; 
How can ye chant, ye little birds, 

And I sae weary, fu'^ o' care ! 
Thou'll break my heart thou warbling bird, 

That wantons thro' the flow'ring thorn ; 
Thou minds me o' departed joys, 

Departed never to return, 
o 

Oft have I rov'd by bonnie Doon, 

To see the rose and woodbine twine : 
And ilka"* bird sang o' luve,* 

And fondly sae did I a' mine, 
\Vi'^ lightsome heart I pu'd' a rose, 

Fu' sweet upon its thorny tree ; 
And my fause^ luver stole my rose, 

But ah ! he left the thorn wi' me.f 

1 Hills of. 4 Every, 7 Pulled. 

2 So. 5 Love. 8 False lover. 

3 Full. 6 With. 

* Of the History of this Song we have the followingfrom the Authoi--s own peo, 
While here I sit, sad and solitary, by the side of a fire in a little country inn 
and drying my wet clothes, in pops a poor fellow of a sodger, and tells me he 
is going to Ayr. By hfavens! say I to inys.-lf, with a tide of good spirits 
which the magic of that sound, auld toon o' Ayr, conjured up, I will send my 
last song to Mr. Ballantine. — iHi^re it is — 

YE flowery banks o' bonnie Doon, 

How cwn ye blume sae t'niv ■ 
How can ye chant, ye little birds. 

And I sae tu' o' care ! 
Thou'll break my heart, thou bonnie bird 

That sings upon the bough ; 
Thou minds me o' the happy days 

When my fause luve was true. 
Thou'll break my heart, thou bonnie bird 

That sliigs beside thy mate ; 
For sae I sat, and sae I sang, 

And wist na o' my fate. 
Aft hac I rov'd by bonnie Doon, 

To see the wood-bine twine. 
And ilka bird sang o' its luve. 

And sae did I o' mine. 
Wi' lightsome heart I pu'd a rose 

Prae aff its thorny tree, 
And my fMuse luver staw the rose. 

But left the thorn wi' me. 

t This Song was altered from the original for Johnson's Musioal Miscellanj, 
3 E 



40a THE POETICAL WORKS OF 



WAE IS MY HEART. 

1. 
WAE^ is my heart, and the tear's in my e'e f 
Lang,^ lang joy's been a stranger to me : 
Forsaken and friendless my burden I bear, 
And the sweet voice o'"* pity ne'er sonnds in my ear. 

2. 
Love thou hast pleasures : and deep hae^ I lov'd ; 
Love thou hast sorrows ; pnd sair^ hae I proved : 
But this bruised heart that now bleeds in my breast, 
I can feel by its throbbings will soon be at rest. 

3. 
O if I were, where happy I hae been ; 
Down by yon stream and yon bonnie castle green ; 
For there he is vvand'ring and musing on me, 
Wha' wad soon dry the tear from his Phillis's e'e. 

1 Woe. 4 Of. 6 Sore. 

2 Eye. S Have. 7 Who would. 

3 Long. 



FAIR ELIZA. 

A Gaelic Air. 

1. 
TURN again thou fair Eliza, 

Ae^ kind blink before we part, 
Rew^ on thy despairing lover ! 

Canst thou break his faithfu'^ heart ! 
Turn again thou fair Eliza ; 

If to love thy heart denies, 
For pity hide the cruel sentence 

Under friendship's kind disguise 1 

1 One. 2 Have compassion. 3 Faithful. 



ROBERT BURNS. 405 



2. 
Thee, dear maid, have I offended ? 

The offence is loving thee : 
Canst thou wreck his peace for ever, 

Wha' for thine vvad^ gladly die ! 
While the life beats in my bosom, 

Thou shalt mix in ilka' throe : 
Turn again, thou lovely maiden, 

Ae sweet smile on me bestow. 

3. 
Not the bee upon the blossom, 

In the pride o'"* sinny noon ; 
Not the little sporting fairy, 

All beneath the simmer* moon ; 
Not the poet in the moment 

Fancy lightens on his e'e,^ 
Kens^ the pleasure, feels the rapture 

That thy presence gies^ to me. 



1 Who. 4 Of sunny. 7 Knows. 

2 Would, 5 Suraraer. 8 Gives. 

3 Every. 6 Eye. 



MUSING ON THE ROARING OCEAN. 

Tune — "Drumion Dubh." 

These verses were composed in compliment to a Mrs. 
M'Lachlan, whose husband was an officer in the East 
Indies. 



1. 
MUSING on the roaring ocean, 

Which divides my love and me ; 
Wearving heaven in warm devotion, 

^or his weal wherever he be. 



404 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

2. 

Hope and fear's alternate billow 
Yielding late to nature's law, 

Whisp'ring spirits round my pillow 
Talk of hini that's far awa. 

3. 
Ye whom sorrow never wounded, 

Ye who never shed a tear, 
Care-untroubled, joy-surrounded, 

Gaudy day to you is dear. 

4. 

Gentle night do thou befriend me ; 

Downy sleep, the curtain draw ; 
Spirits kind again attend me, 

Talk of him that's far awa ! 



SONG, 

Composed in August. 

Tune — " I had a horse, I had nae mair." 

This Song, Burns mentions as the " ebullition of a passion," 
which he conceived for a young Lady, in the nineteenth 
year of his age. He spent the summer of that year in the 
study of mathematics, at a school in Irwine, a sea-port town 
in Ayrshire. " 1 went on," says Burns, " with a high hand 
with my geometry, till the sun entered Virgo," (i. e. in Au- 
gus-t,) " a month which is always a carnival in my bosom, 
when a charming ^7e//e, who lived next door to the school, 
overset my trigonometry, and set me off at a tangent from 
the sphere of my studies." 



L 

NOW westlin winds, and slaught'ring guns 
Bring autumn's pleasant weather ; 

The moorcock springs, on whirring wings, 
Amang^ the blooming heather :^ 

) \n-,oii£r. 2 Healli. 



ROBERT BURNS. 405 

Now waving grain, wide o'er the plain, 

Delights the weary farmer ; 
And the moon shines bright, when I rove at night, 

To muse upon my charmer. 

2. 

The partridge loves the fruitful fells ; 

The plover loves the mountains ; 
The woodcock haunts the lonely dells; 

The soaring hern the fountains ; 
Thro' lofty groves the cushat^ roves 

The path of man to shun it ; 
The hazel bush o'erhangs the thrush, 

The spreading thorn the linnet. 

3. 
Thus ev'ry kind their pleasure find, 

The savage and the tender ; 
Some social join, and leagues combine ; 

Some solitary wander : 
Avaunt, away ! the cruel sway, 

Tyrannic man's dominion ; 
The sportman's joy, the murd'ring cry, 

The flutt'ring, gory pinion ; 

4. 
But Peggy dear, the ev'ning's clear, 

Thick flies the skimming swallow; 
The sky is blue, the fields in view, 

All fading green and yellow : 
Come let us stray our gladsome way, 

And view the charms of nature; 
The riistling corn, the fruited thorn, 

And ev'ry happy creature. 

5. 
We'll gently walk, and sweetly talk. 

While the silent moon shines clearly ; 
I'll grasp thy waist, and fondly press't. 

Swear how I love thee dearly : 

I Wood-pidgeon. 



406 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

Not vernal show'rs to budding flow'rs, 

Not autumn to the farmer, 
So dear can be as thou to me, 

My fair, my lovely charmer ! 



SONG. 

1. 
JOCKY'S ta'en the parting kiss. 

O'er the mountain he is gane :^ 
And with him is a" my bliss, 

Nought but griefs with me remain. 

2. 
Spare my luve^ ye winds that blaw," 

Plashy sleets and beating rain ! 
Spare my luve thou feathery snaw,* 

Drifting o'er the frozen plain. 

3. 

When the shades of evening creep 
O'er the day's fair gladsome e'e,^ 

Sound and safely may he sleep. 
Sweetly blythe his waukening^ be ! 

4. 
He will think on her he loves, 

Fondly he'll repeat her name ; 
For where'er he distant roves, 

Jocky's heart is still at hame.^ 



7 Wakening. 

8 Home. 



1 Gone. 


4 Blow. 


2 All. 


5 Snow. 


3 Love. 


6 Eye. 



ROBERT BURNS. 407 



SHE'S FAIR AND FAUSE. 

1. 

SHE'S fair and fause* that causes my smart, 

I lo'ed^ her meikle" and lang ;"• 
She's broken her vow, she's broken my heart 

And I may e'en gae* hang^. 
A coof ® cam in wi'^ rovvth o' gear, 
And I hae* tint my dearest dear, 
But women is but warld's^ gear, 

Sae'° let the bonnie lass gang.^^ 

2. 

Whae'er ye be that women love, 

To this be never blind, 
Nae^* ferlie 'tis tho' fickle she prove, 

A woman has't by kind : 
O woman lovely, woman fair; 
An anGjel form's faun" to thy share, 
'Twad'" been o'er meikle to gi'en" thee mair," 

I mean an angel mind. 



1 False. 


7 With plenty. 


12 No wonder. 


2 Lov.'d. 


8 II-. ve lost. 


13 Fallen. 


3 Much. 


9 World's. 


14 'T would 


4 Lung. 


10 So. 


15 Have given 


5 Go. 


11 Go. 


16 More. 


6 Fool eame. 







SONG. 

Tunt — "Corn Rigs are bonnie." 

1. 

IT was upon a lammas night. 
When corn rigs^ are b'^nnie, 

Beneath the moon's unclouded light, 
I held awa^ to Annie : 

1 Fields of oats. 2 Away. 



jPl THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

The time flew by wi'^ tentless heed, 
'Till 'tween the late and early ; 

Wi'^ sma' persuasion she agreed, 
To see me thro' the barley. 

2. 
The sky was blue, the wind was still, 

The moon was shining clearly ! 
I sat her down wi' right good will, 

Amang3 the rigs'* o' barley ; 
I kent^ her heart was a'^ my ain ; 

I lov'd her most sincerely ; 
I kiss'd her owre' and owre again. 

Amang the rigs o' barley. 
3. 
I lock'd her in my fond embrace ; 

Her heart was beating rarely ; 
My blessing on that happy place, 

Amang the rigs o' barley ! 
But by the moon and stars so bright, 

That shone that hour so clearly ! 
She ay shall bless that happy night, 

Amang the rigs o' barley. 
4. 
I hae* been blythe wi' comrades dear ; 

I hae been merry drinkin' ; 
I hae been joyfu'^ gath'rin' gear ;" 

I hae been hajipy thinking : 
But a' the pleasures e'er I saw, 

Tho' three times doubl'd fairly. 
That happy ni^ht was worth them a' 

Amang the rigs o' barley. 

CHORUS. 

Cor?i rigSf an? barley rigs, 
An^ corn rigs are bonnie, 

Vli ne^er forget that happy night:, 
Amang the rigs wi' Amiie. 

1 With thoughtless, 5 Knew. 8 Have. 

2 With small. 6 All my own. 9 J ijful. 

3 Among. 7 Over. 10 Wealth. 

4 Ritlg-es of. 



ROBERT BURNS. 409 

SONG. 

Tune — " Roslin Castle." 



Tills beautiful strain was composed by Burns at a time when 
his feelings were highly excited by the unfortunate affair 
of Miss Jean Armour, afterwards Mrs. Burns. He had 
taken his last farewell of his few friends, and his chest 
was on the road to Greenock, when he wrote this Song, 
which, while he deemed it the last he should ever measure 
in Caledonia, he intended as a farewell dirge to his native 
land. 



1. 

THE s^loomy night is gathering fast, 
Loud roars the wild inconstant blast", 
Yon murky cloud is foul with rain, 
I see it driving o'er the plain : 
The hunter now has left the moor, 
The scattered coveys meet secure. 
While here I wander prest with care, 
Along the lonely banks of Ayr. 

2. 
The autumn mourns her rip'ning corn 
By early winter's ravage torn ; 
Across her placid, azure sky. 
She sees the scowling tempest fly ; 
Chill runs my blood to hear it rave, 
I think upon the stormy wave, 
Where many a danger I must dare, 
Far from the bonnie banks of Ayr. 

3. 
'Tis not the surging billows roar, 
'Tis not that fatal deadly shore ; 
Tho' death in ev'ry shape appear, 
The wretched have no more to fear : 
3f 



410 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

But round my heart the ties are bound, 
That heart transpierc'd with many a wound ! 
These bleed afresh, those ties I tear, 
To leave the bonnie banks of Ayr, 

4. 
Farewell old Collars hills and dales, 
Her heathy moors and winding vales ! 
The scenes where wretched fancy roves, 
Pursuing past, unhappy loves! 
Farewell, my friends ! Farewell, my foes ! 
My peace with these, my love with those — 
The bursting tears my heart declare. 
Farewell the bonnie banks of Ayr. 



O, WERE I ON PARNASSUS' HILL.* 

Tune — " My love is lost to me." 

1. 

WERE I on Parnassus' hill 
Or had of Helicon my fill ; 
That I might catch poetic skill, 

To sing how dear I love thee. 
But Nith maun' be my Muse's well, 
My muse maun be thy bonnie sell f 
On Corsincon Pll glowr^ and spell. 

And write how dear I love thee. 

2. 
Then come, sweet muse, inspire my lay 
For a'^ the lee-lang pimmer's day, 

1 coudna* sing, I coudna say. 

How much, how dear, I love thee. 

1 Must. 4 All tlie live-long 

2 Self. summer's day. 

3 Stare. 5 Could no». 

* This beautiful Song was ra*de out of compliment to Mrs. Burns. 
j Coi^incon, is a high hill near the source of Nith. 



ROBERT BURNS. 411 

I see thee dancing o'er the green, 
Thy waist sae^ ji«T^p» thy limbs sae clean, 
Thy tempting hps, thy roguish e'en — ^ 
By heaven and earth I love thee ! 

3. 
By night, by day, a-field,'' at hame,'* 
The thoughts o'* thee my breast inflame ; 
And ay^ I muse and sinjj thy name, 

I only live to love thee. 
Tho' I were doomed to wander on, 
Beyond the sea, beyond the sun, 
'Till my last weary sand was run ; 

'Till then — and then I love thee. 

1 So slender. 3 Abroad. 5 Of. 

2 Eyes. 4 Home. 6 Always. 



THE BRAES 0' BALLOCHMYLE.* 

1. 

THE Catrine woods were vellow seen, 

The flower's decay'd on Catrine lee,f 
Nae' lav'rock sang on hillock green, 

Bat nature sicken'd on the e'e.^ 
Thro' faded groves MariaJ sang, 

HerseP in beauty's bloom the while, 
And ay* the wild- wood echoes rang, 

Fareweel* the braes^ o' Balloc^myle. 

2. 
Low in your wintry beds, ye flowers. 
Again ye'll flourish fresh and fair ; 

1 No lark. 3 Herself, 5 Farewell. 

2 Eyes. 4 Always. 6 Hills oi'. 

* Ballochmyle, formerly the seat of Sir John Whiteford, now of Claud 
Alexander, esq. 

t Cal:ine, in Ayrshire, the seat of Dujrald Stewart, cr4\. Professor of Moral 
Philosophy in the University of Edinb\irgli. 

i The iSlaria of this Song, v;as the eldest daughter of Sir John Whiteford, 
(now Mis. Cranston,) and ihe Sgiig was writtfui on the occasion of that re - 
pcclable family leaving BuUochmylc 



412 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

Ye birdies dumb, in withering bowers, 
Again ye'll charm the vocal air. 

But here, alas! for me nae^ mair, 
Shall birdie charm, or flovv'ret smile ; 

Fareweel the bonny banks of Ayr, 

Fareweel, fareweel ! sweet Ballochmyle ! 

1 No mofK. 



THE DUMFRIES VOLUNTEERS, 

Tune — "Push about the jorum." 
Jlpril, 1795. 

1. 

DOES haughty Gaul invasion threat ? 

Then let the louns^ beware, sir, 
There's wooden walls upon our seas, 

And volunteers on shore sir. 
The Nith shall run to Corsincon,* 

And Crifielf sink in Solway, 
Ere we permit a foreign foe 

On British ground to rally ! 

Fall de rail, &c. 

2. 
O let us not like snarling tykes" 

In wrangling be divided ; 
'Till slap come in an unco^ loun 

And wi'"* a rung decide it. 
Be Britain still to Britain true, 

Amang* oursels united ; 
For never but by British hands 

Maun^ British wrangs' be righted. 
Fail de rail' &c. 



1 llaggamuffins. 4 With a cudgel. 6 Must. 

2 Curs. 5 Among ourselves. 7 Wrongs. 

3 Outlandish. 

* A high hill near the source of the Nith. 

i A well kuown mountain at the mouth of the same river. 



ROBERT BURNS. 4t3 

3. 
The kettle o'' the kirk and state 

Perhaps a claut^ may fail in't 
But deil a foreign tinkler^ loun 

Shall ever ca'"* a nail in't. 
Our fathers' blude* the kettle bought, 

And vvha^ wad dare to spoil it ; 
By heaven the sacrilegious dog 

Shall fuel be to boil it. 

Fall de rail, &c. 

4. 
The wretch thai wad a tyrant own, 

And the wretch his true-born brother, 
Who would set the 7nob aboon' the throne^ 

May they be hanged together ! 
Who will not sing " God save the king,'* 

Shall hang as high's the steeple ; 
But, while we sing " God save the king,'" 

We'll ne'er forget the people. 

Fall de rail, &c. 



1 Of the church. 4 Drive. 6 Who wouh!* 

2 Rivet. , 5 Blood. 7 Above. 

3 Thiker. 



SONG. 

The allusions to James II. of England, Who was chased 
from his throne, are too palpable to be mistaken. 

The recollection of fallen greatness is calculated to inspire 
generous feelings even in the most common minds. Burns, 
it is well known, was keenly alive to those feelings. 
Without supposing, therefore, that he was unfriendly to 
the protestant succession, or that he seriously wished to 
see the return of an exiled tyrant, we can easily account 
for those pieces in which he has attempted to commemo- 
rate the heroic valour, of those who strove to support the 
tottering hopes of the house of Stuart, — valour worthy of 
a nobler cause and a happier fortune. 



414 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

BY yon castle wa'^ at the close of the day, 
I heard a man sing, tho' his head it was grey ; 
And as he was singing, the tears fast down came — 
There'll never be peace till Jamie comes hame.^ 

2. 
The Church is in ruins, the state is in jars, 
" Delusions, oppressions, and- murderous wars : 
We dare na'^ weel say't, but we ken^ wha's to blame, 
There'll never be peace 'till Jamie comes hame. 

n. 

My seven braw^ sons for Jamie drew sword, 
And now I greet^ round their green beds in the yard :'' 
It brak^ the sweet heart o'^ my faithfu' auld dame — ^^ 
There'll never be peace 'till Jamie comes hame. 

4 
Now life is a burden that bows me down. 
Sin'" I tint my bairns, and he tint^^ his crown ; 
But 'till my last moments my words are the same, 
There'll never be peace till Jamie comes hame. 



1 Wall. 


6 


Weep. 


10 Faithful Old. 






2 Home. 


7 


Yard. 


11 


Since I lost 


my 


Cllll- 


3 Not well. 


8 


Broke. . 




dren. 






4 Know who is. 


9 


or. 


12 


Lost. 






5 Worthy. 















A MAN'S A MAN FOR A' THAT. 

Burns, in a letter to Mr. Thomson, inclosing this Song, ob- 
serves, " a great critic, (Aikin, on songs,) says, that love and 
ivine are the exclusive theme for song writing. The en- 
closed is on neither subject, and consequently is no song ; 
but it will be allowed, I think, to be two or three pretty 
good prose thoughts inverted into rhyme." Mr. Thomson 
did not think, however, that it was no song, but gave it a 
place in his celebrated Musical Collection. 



ROBERT BURNS. 415 

1. 

IS there for honest ix)verty, 

Wha^ hangs his head and a'^ that ? 
The coward slave we pass him by, 

And dare be poor for a' that. 
For a' that, and a' that, 

Our toils obscure, an' a' that, 
The rank is but the guinea stamp. 

The man's the gowd,^ for a that. 

2. 

What though on hamely* fare we dine, 

Wear hodden* g^"sy, and a' that ? 
Gie^ fools their silk, and knaves their wine, 

A man's a man, for a' that. 
For a' that, and a' that. 

Their tinsel show, an' a' that ; 
An honest nian, though ne'er sae^ poor, 

Is chief o'"' men for a' that. 

3. 
Ye see yon birkie,^ ca'd'* a lord, 

Wha struts and stares, and a' that, 
Tho' hundreds worship at his word. 

He's but a cuif '^ for a' that. 
For a' that, and a' that. 

His ribband, star, and a' that ; 
A man of independent mind, 

Can look, and laugh at a' that. 

4. 
The king can mak"^ a belted knight, 

A marquis, duke, and a' that. 
An honest man's aboon^^ his might, 

Gude^'' faith he manna'* fa' that I 



1 Who. }ias the material co- 10 Called. 

2 All. lour otthe wool. 11 Simpleton. 

3 Gokl. 6 Give. 12 Make. 

4 Homely. 7 So. 13 Above. 

5 Course cloth worn by 8 Of. , 14 Good. 

the peasantry, which 9 Fellow. 15 Must notpretet\d 



416 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

For a' that, and a' that, 

His dignities and a' that ! 
The pith o' sense, and pride o' worth, 

Are grander far than a' that. 

5. 
Then let us pray, that come it may, 

As come it shall for a' that ; 
That sense and worth o'er a' the earth. 

Shall bear the gree,^ and 2! that ; 
For a' that, and a that, 

It's coming yet, for a' that ; 
Whan^ man to man, the warkP o'er, 

Shall brothers be, and a' that. 

1 Pre-eminence.. 3 When. 2 World. 



A FRAGMEN^r. 

Tune, — " Gillicrankie." 

1. 
WHEN Guilford good our pilot stood, 

And did our hellim^ thraw, man, 
Ae^ night, at tea, began a plea, 

Within America^ man : 
Then up they gat^ the maskin-pat, 

And in the sea did jaw,'* man ; 
An' did nae^ less, in full Congress, 

Than quite refuse our law, man. 

2. 
Then thro' the lakes Montgomery takes, 

I wat"^ he was na^ slaw, man : 
Down Ijowrie's burn he took a turn. 

And Carleton did ca',^° man : 



1 Helm steer. 


5 And. 


8 Not slow. 


2 One. 


6 No. 


9 St. Lawrence Rivei 


3 Got the tea-pot. 


7 Thought. 


10 Pursue. 


4 Dash. 







ROBERT BURNS. 4\7 

But yet, what-reck, he, at Quebec^ 

Montgomery- like did fa',^ man; 
Wi'^ sword in hand, before his band, 

Amang3 his enemies a',"* man. 

3. 
Poor Tammy Gage^ within a cage 

Was kept at Boston ha\^ man ; 
Till fFillie Howe took o'er the knovve^ 

For Philadelphia^ man : 
Wi' sword an' gun he thought a sin 

Guid'^ Christian blood to draw, men ; 
But at New York^ vvi' knife an' fork, 

Sir-loin he hacked sma',' man. 

4. 
Burgoyne gaed^ up, like spur an' whip, 

Till Eraser brave did fa', man ; 
Then lost his way, ae misty day, 

In Saratoga shaw, man. 
Cornwallis fought as lang's^" he dought, 

An' did the buckskins claw, man ; 
But Clinton^ s glaive" frae^^ rust to save, 

He hung it to the wa'," man. 

5. 
Then Montague^ and Guilford too, 

Began to fear a fa', man ; 
And Sackville doure,*"* wha stood the stoure, 

The German chief to thraw,^^ man ; 
For Paddy Burke^ like onie Turk, 

Nae mercy had at a', man ; 
An' Charlie Fox threw by the box. 

An' lovvs'd'^ his tinkler'^ jaw, man. 

1 Fall. 7 Good. 13 Wall, 

2 With. 8 Small. 14 Stern. 

3 Among. 9 Went. 15 Oppose. 

4 All. 10 Long as he was able. 16 Loosed. 

5 Hall. 11 Sword. 17 Tinker tongue. 

6 Hill. 12 From. 



418 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

6. 
Then Rockingham took up the game j 

Till death did on him ca'/ man ; 
When Shelburne meek held up his cheek, 

Conform to gospel law, man, 
Saint Stephen's boys, wi' jarring noise, 

They did his measures thraw, man. 
For JVorth an' Fox united stocks, 

An' bore him to the v\a', man. 

7. 
Then clubs an' hearts were Charlie^s cartes,^ 

He swept the stakes awa',' man, 
Till the diamond's ace, of Indian race, 

Led him ssi'n"^ Jaux pas, man : 
The Sax^n lads, wi' loud placads,* 

On Chatham^ s boy did ca' man : 
An' Scotland drew her pipe, an' blew, 

' Up Willie, waur^ them a' man !' 

8. 
Behind the throne then Grenville's gone, 

A secret word or twa' man ; 
While slee^ Diindas arous'd the class 

Be-north the Roman wa', man : 
An' Chatham^ s wraith,^ in heavenly graith,^** 

(Inspired bardies saw, man) 
Wi' kindling eyes, cry'd ' Willie, rise ! 
Would I hae feared them a', man ?' 

9. 
But word an' blow, North, Fox, and Co. 

Gowft'd" Willie like a ba',^^ man, 
Till Suthron raise, and coost" their claise 

Behind him in a raw,^^ man ; 



1 Call. 


Defeat. 


11 Struck. 


2 Cards. 


7 Two. 


12 Biill. 


r> Away. 


8 Sly. 


13 Gist off their clothes 


4 Sore. 


9 Wrath. 


14 Row. 


't Placards. 


10 Armour. 





ROBERT BURNS. ^21 

An' CaJedon threw by the drone, 

An' did her u hittle^ draw, man ; 
An' swoor^ fu' rude, thro' dirt an' blood 

To mak it guid in law man. 
****** 

1 Sword. 2 Swore full. 



SONG. 

The herione of this beautiful ballad was Miss Miller, daugh- 
ter of Mr. Miller, of Dalswinton, one of Burns' warmest 
friends and patrons. 



1. 
THERE was a lass, and she was fair, 

At kirk^ and market to be seen ; 
When a'^ the fairest maids were met. 

The fairest maid was bonnie Jean. 

2. 
And ay,^ she wrought her mammie's wark, 

And ay she sang sae^ merrilie : 
The blithest bird upon the bush. 

Had ne'er a lighter heart than she. 

3. 
But hawks will rob the tender joys. 

That bless the little lintwhite's^ nest ; 
And frost will blight the fairest flowers ; 

And love will break the soundest rest, 

4. 
Young Robie was the brawest' lad, 

The flower and pride of a' the glen, 
And he had owsen,^ sheep, and kye,^ 

And wanton naigies^" nine or ten. 



1 Church. 


5 So. 


8 Oxen. 


2 All. 


6 Linnet's. 


9 Cows. 


3 Always. 


7 Handsomest. 


10 Horses, 


4 Work. 







^ii> THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

5. 
He gaed^ wi' Jeanie to the tryste,* 

He danc'd wi' Jeanie on the down ; 
And lang^ ere widess Jeanie wist, 

Her heart was tint,"* her peace was stown.' 

6. 
As in the bosom o'^ the stream, 

The moon-beam dwells at dewy e'en ; 
So trembling, pure, was tender love 

Within the breast o' bonnie Jean.* 

7. 
And now she works her mammie's wark, 

And ay she sighs wi' care and pain; 
Yet wist na^ what her ail might be. 

Or what wad* mak her weel again. 

8. 
But did na Jeanie's heart loup^ I'ght, 

And did na joy blink in her e'e,^° 
As Robie tauld'^ a tale o' love 

Ae^^ e'enin' on the lilly lea? 

9. 

The sun was sinking in the west, 

The birds sang sweet in ilka" grove ; 

His cheek to hers he fondly prest. 
And whisper'd thus his tale o' love : 

10. 
O Jeanie fair, I lo'e^'' thee dear : 

O, canst thou think to fancy me ? 
Or wilt thou leave thy mammie's cot, 

And learn to tent the farms wi'" me. 



1 Went with. 6 Of. 11 Told, 

2 Fair. 7 Not. 12 One. 

3 Long. 8 Would make her well. 13 Every. 

4 Lost. 9 Leap. 14 Love. 

5 Stolen. 10 Eye. 15 With. 

• In the original MS. our poet asks Mr. Thomson if this stanza is not 
original. 



ROBERT BURNS. 421 

11. 
At barn or byre^ thou shalt na drudge, 

Or naething^ else to trouble thee ; 
But stray amangs the heather-bells,* 

And tent the waving corn wi' me. 

12. 
Now what could artless Jeanie do? 

She had nae* will to say him na :® 
At length she blush'd a sweet consent, 

And love was ay between them twa.' 



1 Cow-Stable. 


4 Heath blossoms. 


6 Nay. 


2 Nothing. 


5 No. 


7 Two. 


3 Amongv 







SONG. 

Tunt — « Jo Janet." 

1. 
HUSBAND, husband, cease your strife, 

Nor longer idly rave, sir ; 
Tho' I am your wedded wife. 

Yet I am not your slave, sir. 

2. 
" One of two must still obey, 

"Nancy, Nancy, 
" Is it man or woman, say, 

" My spouse, Nancy V 

3. 
*< If 'tis still the lordly word, 

Service and obedience ; 
I'll desert my sov'reign lord, 

And so, good by'e allegiance. 

4. 
" Sad will I be, so bereft, 

" Nancy, Nancy, 
" Yet I'll try to make a shift, 

'^ My spouse, Nancy." 



422 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

5. 
My poor heart then break it must, 

My last hour Pm near it : 
When you lay me in the dust, 

Think, think how you will bear it. 

6. 
" I will hope and trust in heaven, 

"Nancy, Nancy; 
" Strength to bear it will be given, 

" My spouse, Nancy." 

7. 
Well, sir, from the silent dead, 

Still PIl try to daunt you ; 
Ever round your midnight bed 

Horrid sprites shall haunt you, 

8. 
<« I'll wed another, like my dear, 

" Nancy, Nancy ; 
" Then all hell will fly for fear 
*' My spouse, Nancy.'' 



SONG. 

Tvne — " I wish my love were in a mire." 

1. 
O BONNIE was yon rosy brier. 

That blooms sae^ far frae^ haunt o'^ man ; 
And bonnie she, and, ah ! how dear ! 

It shaded frae the e'enin* sun. 

2. 
Yon rosebuds in the morning dew 

How pure, amang* the leaves sae green ; 
But purer was the lover's vow 

They witnessed in their shade yestreen. 

1 So. 3 Of, 5 Among, 

2 From, 4 Evening. 



V 



ROBERT BURNS. 423 

3. 
All in its rude and prickly bovver, 

That crimson robe, how sweet and fair ! 
But love is far a sweeter flower 

Amid life's thorny path o' care. 

4. 
The pathless wild and wimpling^ burn, 

Wi' Chloris in my arms, be mine ; 
And I the world, nor wish, nor scorn, 

Its jo)'S and griefs alike resign. 

1 Winding rivulet. 



SONG. 

Tune — " Deil tak the wars." 

The heroine of this and many other of Burns' best songs, 
was a Miss Lorimer, afterwards Mrs. Whelpdale. Her 
poetic name is Chloris. This song was tirst composed 
in the Scotch dialect, and afterwards altered into Eng- 
lish as in this copy. 



1. 
MARK yonder pomp of costly fashion, 

Round the wealthy, titled bride : 
But when compar'd with real passion, 

Poor is all that princely pride. 

What are their showy treasures ? 

What are their noisy pleasures? 
The gay, gaudy glare of vanity and art ; 

The polibh'd jewel's blaze. 

May draw the wond'ring gaze. 

And courdy grandeur bright, 

The fancy may delight, 
But never, never can come near the heart. 



424 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

2. 
But did you see my dearest Chloris, 

In simplicity's array ; 
Lovely as yonder sweet opening flower is, 

Shrinking from the gaze of day. 

O then, the heart alarming, 

And all resistless charming, 
In Love's delightful fetters she chains the willing 
soul! 

Ambition would disown 

The world's imperial crown, 

Even Av'rice would deny, 

His worshipp'd deity, 
And feel thro' ev'ry vein Love's rapture roll. 



SONG. 



Tune — " Deil tak the wars." 

1. 
SLEEP'ST thou, or wak'st thou fairest creature ; 

Rosy morn now lifts his eye. 
Numbering ilka^ bud which nature 

Waters wi' the tears o' joy; 

Now through the leafy woods, 

And by the reeking floods ; 
Wild nature's tenants, freely, gladly stray ; 

The lintwhite^ in his bower 

Chants o'er the breathing flower : 

The lav'rock^ to the sky 

Ascends wi' sangs"* o' joy, 
While the sun and thou arise to bless the day. 

2. 
Phoebus gilding the brow o' morning, 

Banishes ilk darksome shade, 
Nature gladdening and adorning ; 

Such to me my lovely maid, 

1 Every. 3 Lark. 

2 Linnet. 4 Songs. 



ROBERT BURNS. 425 

When absent frae my fair, 

The murky shades o' care 
With starless gloom o'ercast my sullen sky ; 

But when, in beauty's light, 

She meets my ravishM si^ht, 
When through my very heart 

Her beaming glories dart ; 
'Tis then I wake to life, to light and joy. 



ON THE SEAS AND FAR AWAY. 

Tune.—'' O'er the hills," &c. 

1. 

HOW can my poor heart be glad, 
When absent from my sailor lad ; 
How can I the thought forego, 
He's on the seas to meet the foe : 
Let me wander, let me rove. 
Still my heart is with my love. 
Nightly dreams and thoughts by day 
Are with him that's far awav. 

CHORUS. 

On the seas and far away, 
On stormy seas and Jar away; 
Nightly dreams and thoughts by day. 
Are ay with him thafs Jar away. 

2. 
When in summer's noon I faint. 
As weary flocks around me pant, 
Haply in this scorching sun 
My sailor's thundering at his gun : 
Bullets, spare my only joy ! 
Bullets, spare my darling boy! 
Fate do with me what you may. 
Spare but him that's far away ! 

On the seas, ^r. 
3 H 



426 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

3. 

At the starless midnight hour, 

When winter rules with bou!idIess power 

As the storms the forests tear, 

And thunders rend the howling air. 

Listening to the doubling roar, 

Surging on the rocky shore, 

All I can — I weep and pray, 

For his weal that's far away. 

Oil the seaSy ^c. 
t 
4. 
Peace thy olive wand extend, 
And bid wild war his ravage end. 
Man with brother man to meet, 
And as a brother kindly greet : 
Then may heaven with prosp'rous gales, 
Fill my sailor's welcome sails, 
To my arms their charge convey, 
My dear lad that's far away. 

On the seas, l^c. 



SONG OF DEATH. 

We are told in one of Burns' letters, that the circumstance 
which gave rise to this beautiful Song, was looking over 
with a musical friend, M'Donald^a CoUeciion of Highland 
Airs, with one of which, an Isle of Sky tune, entitled 
Oran an Aoig, or " The Song of Death," he was so much 
struck as to think of adapting stanzas to it. " This Poem 
was accordingly written in ITOl. It was printed in John- 
son's Musical Museum. The Poet had an intention in the 
latter part of his life of printing it separately, set to music, 
but was advised against it. The martial ardour which rose 
so high afterwards in Britain, on a threatened invasion 
from France, had nof, then acquired the tone necessary 
to give popularity to this noble production ; which seemed 
more calculated to invigorate the spirit of defence, in a 
season of real and pressing danger, than any production 
of modern times." 



ROBERT BURNS. 427 

1. 
FAREWELL, thou fair day, thou green earth, and 
ye skies, 
Now gay with the broad setting sun ; 
Farewell, loves and friendships ; ye dear, tender ties, 
Our race of existence is run ! 

2. 
Thou grim king of terrors, thou life's gloomy foe, 

Go, frighten the coward and slave : 
Go, teach them to tremble, fell tyrant! but know, 

No terrors hast thou to the brave ! 

3. 
Thou strik'st the poor peasant — he sinks in the dark, 

Nor saves e'en the wreck of a name ; 
Thou strik'st the young hero — a glorious mark, 

He falls in the blaze of his famel 

4. 
In the field of j)roud honor — our swords in our hands. 

Our king and our country to save — 
While victory shines on life's last ebbing sands — 

O, who would not die with the brave ! 



JESSIE.* 

Tune — " Bonnie Dundee." 

1. 
TRUE hearted was he, the sad swain o'^ the Yarrow, 

And fair are the maids on the banks of the Ayr, 
But by the sweet side o' the Nith's ninding river, 

Are lovers as faithful, and maidens as fair : 
To equal young Jessie seek Scotland all over; 

To equal young Jessie you seek it in vain, 
Grace, beauty, and elegance fetter her lover, 

And maidenly modesty fixes the chain. 

1 Of. 

* The justly praised fair one of this Song, was Miss Jessie Slaig, Dumfries, 
afterwards Mrs. Miller, but who diet! in early life. 



45:8 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

2. 
O fresh is the rose in the gay, dewy morning, 

And sweet is the lily at evening close ; 
But m the fair presence o' lovely young Jessie, 

Unseen is the lily, unheeded the rose. 
Love sits in her smile, a wizard ensnaring ; 

Enthron'd in her een^ he delivers his law ; 
And still to her charms she alone is a stranger, 

Her modest demeanor 's the jewel of a'^ 

1 Eyes, 2 All. 



SONG. 

1. 

BY Allan-stream I chanc'd to rove, 

While Phoebus sank beyond Benleddi,* 
The winds were whispering thro' the grove, 

The yellow corn was waving ready : 
I listen'd to a lover's sang,^ 

And thought on youthfu'^ pleasures mony 
And ay"* the wild- wood echoes rang— 

O dearly do I lo'e^ thee Annie. 

2. 
O happy be the woodbine bower, 

Nae^ nighdy bogle^ mak it eerie ; 
Nor ever sorrow stain the hour, 

The place and time I met my dearie ! 
Her head upon my throbbing breast. 

She, sinking said, " Pm thine forever !" 
While mony a kiss the seal imprest. 

The sacred vow we ne'er should sever. 



6 No. 

7 Gbost make it frightful. 



A mountain west of Strathallan, 3009 feet high. 



1 Song. 


4 AUways, 


2 Youthful, 


5 Love. 


3 Many. 





ROBERT BURNS. 429 

3. 

The haunt o'^ spring 's the primrose brae,^ 

The simmer^ joys the flocks to follow ; 
How cheery thro' her shortening day, 

Is autumn in her weeds o' yellow ; 
But can they melt the glowing heart, 

Or chain the soul in speechless pleasure, 
Or thro' each nerve the rapture dart, 

Like meeting her, our bosom's treasure. 

1 Of. 2 Bank. 3 Summer. 



THE LASS O' BALLOCHMYLE. 

The subject of this beautiful strain was a Miss Jilexander, 
(laughter of Claud Mexander, esq. of Ballochmyle. 

\. 
"TVVAS even — the dewy fields were green, 

On every blade the pearls hang ; 
The zephyr wantoned round the bean, 

And bore its fragrant sweets alang:^ 
In every glen the mavis^ sang. 

All nature listening seemed the while, 
Except when green- wood echoes rang 

Amang^ the braes^ o' Ballochmyle. 

2. 
With careless step I onward strayed, 

My heart rejoiced in nature's joy, 
When musing in a lonely glade, 

A maiden fair I chanced to spy; 
Her look was like the morning's eye. 

Her air like nature's vernal smile. 
Perfection whispered passing by, 

Behold the lass o' Ballochmyle. 

1 Along. 3 Among, 

2 Thrush. 4 Hills of. 



4^0 THE POKTICAL WORKS OF 

3. 
Fair is the morn in flowery May, 

And sweet is night in autumn mild : 
When roving thro' the garden gay, 

Or wandering in the lonely wild ; 
But woman, nature's darling child ! 

There, all her charms she does compile; 
Even there her other works are foil'd 

By the bonny lass o' Ballochmyle. 

4. 
O had she been a country maid, 

And I the happy country swain, 
Tho' sheltered in the lowest shed 

That ever rose on Scotland's plain ! 
Thro' weary winter's wind and rain 

With joy, with rapture, I would toil ; 
And nightly to my bosom strain 

The bonny lass o' Ballochmyle. 

5. 
Then pride might climb the slipp'ry steep ; 

Where fame and honours lofty shine ; 
And thirst of gold might tempt the deep, 

Or downward sink the Indian mine ; 
Give me the cot below the pine. 

To tend the flocks or till the soil. 
And every day have joys divine. 

With the bonny lass o' Ballochmyle. 



CASTLE GORDON. 

Tune — " Morag." 

This Song was made after a visit to the castle of the Duke of 
Gordon, near Fochabers in Bamffshire, in the north-east of 
Scotland. 



ROBERT BURNS. 431 

1. 
STREAMS that glide in orient plains, 
Never bound by winter's chains ; 
Glowing here on golden sands, 
There commix'd w ith foulest stains 
From tyranny's empurpled bands : 
These, their richly gleaming waves, 
I leave to tyrants and their slaves ; 
Give me the stream that sweetly laves 
The banks by Castle Gordon. 

2. 
Spicy forests, ever gay, 
Shading from the burning ray 
Hapless wretches sold to toil, 
Or the ruthless native's way, 
Bent on slaughter, blood and spoil : 
Woods that ever verdant wave, 
I leave the tyrant and the slave, 
Give me the groves that lofty brave 
The storms, by Castle Gordon. 

3. 
Wildly here without control, " 
Nature reigns and rules the whole j 
In that sober pensive mood. 
Dearest to the feeling soul. 
She plants the forest, pours the flood ; 
Life's poor day I'll musing rave, 
And find at night a sheltering cave, 
Where waters flow and wild woods wave, 
By bonnie Castle Gordon. 



43!J THE POETICAL WORKS OF 



SONG. 

Tune — " The king of France he rode a race." 

1. 
AMANG^ the trees where humming bees 

At buds and flowers were hinging, O 
Auld^ Caledon drew out her drone, 

And to her pipe was singing ; O 
'Twas Pibroch,^ sang,^ Strathspey,* or reels, 

She dir'ld^ them aff,' fu'^ clearly, O 
When there cam^ a yell o''° foreign squeells, 

That dang" her tapsalteerie, O — 

2. 
Their capon craws^^ and queer ha ha's, 

They made our lugs" grow eerie,^^ O 
The hungry bike** did scrape and pike " 

'Till we were wae^^ an' weary O ; 
But a royal ghaist^^ wha ance was cas'd 

A prisoner aughteen" year avva,^° 
He fir'd a fiddler in the North 

That dang them tapsalteerie, O. 



16 



1 Among. 5 A pleasing and popu- 11 Drove her topsy-turvy, 

2 Old. lar species of Scottish 12 Crows. 

3 A highland air suited music, originally pe- 13 Ears. 

to the particular pas- culiar to the district 14 Frightened. 

sion which the musi- of Strathspey. 15 Hive. 

cian would either ex- 6 Play'd. 16 Pick. 

cite or assuage; gene- 7 off. 17 Woeful. 

rally applied to mar- 8 Full. 18 Ghost who once. 

tial music. 9 Came. 19 Eighteen. 

4 Song. 10 Of. 20 Away. 



ROBERT BURNS. 433 

SONG. 

Tune — " Braes o' Balqhidder." 

I'll kiss thee yet, yet, 

An' I'll kiss thee o'er again, 

An' I'll kiss thee yet, yet, 
My bonie Peggy Alison ! 

1. 
Ilk^ care and fear when thou art near, 

I ever mair^ defy them, O ; 
Young kings upon their hansel throne 

Are not sae^ blest as I am, O ! 

lUl kiss thee ^c. 

2. 
When in my arms, wi''* a' thy charms, 

I clasp my countless treasure, O; 
I seek nae* mair o'° Heaven to share, 
• Than sic' a moment's pleasure, O ! 
/'// kiss thee ^c. 

3. 
And by thy e'en^ sae bonie blue, 

I swear I'm thine for ever, O ! — 
And on thy lips I seal my vow. 
And break it shall I never, O! 
/'// kiss thee ^c. 



1 Every. 


4 With all. 


7 Such. 


2 More. 


5 No. 


8 Eyes, 


S So. 


6 Of. 





SONG. 

Thne—" The Weaver and his Shuttle, 0." 

Burns himself remarks in the MS. from which this song 
was copied, that it is wild rhapsody, miserably deficient 
in versification, but as the sentiments were the genuine 
feelings of his heart, for that reason he had a particular 
pleasure in humming it over. 
3 I 



434 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

1. 

MY Father was a Farmer upon the Carrick border, O 
And carefully he bred me in decency and order, O 
He bade me act a manly part, though I had ne'er a 

farthing, O 
For without an honest manly heart, no man was 

worth regarding, O. 

2. 

Then out into the world my course I did determine, O 

Tho' to be rich was not my wish, yet to be great 
was charming, O 

My talents they were not the worst, nor yet my edu- 
cation : O 

Resolv'd was I, at last to try, to mend my situation, O. 

3. 
In many a way, and vain essay, I courted fortune's 

favor; O 
Some cause unseen, still stept between, to frustrate 

each endeavour ; O 
Sometimes by foes I was o'erpower'd ; sometimes 

by friends forsaken ; O 
And when my hope was at the top, I still was worst 

mistaken, O. 

4. 
Then sore harassed, and tir'd at last, with fortune's 

vain delusion ; O 
I dropt my schemes, like idle dreams, and came to 

this conclusion; O 
The past was bad, and the future hid ; its good or 

ill untryed ; O 
But the present hour was in my pow'r, and so I 

would enjoy it, O. 

5. 

Nor help, nor hope, nor view had I ; nor person to 
befriend me ; O 

So I must toil, and sweat and broil, and labor to sus- 
tain me, O 



ROBERT BURNS. 435 

To plough and sow, to reap and mow, my father bred 
me early ; O 

For one, he said, to labor bred, was a match for for- 
tune fairly, O. 

6. 

Thus all obscure, unknown, and poor, thro' life Fm 
doom'd to wander, O 

Till down my weary bones I lay in everlasting slum- 
ber : O 

No view nor care, but shun whatever might breed me 
pain or sorrow ; O 

I live to day, as well's I may, regardless of to-mor- 
row, O. 

7. 

But cheerful, still I am as well, as a monarch in a 
palace, O 

Tho' fortune's frown still haunts me down, with all her 
wonted malice; O 

I make indeed, my daily bread, but ne'er can make 
it farther ; O 

But as daily bread is all I need, I do not much re- 
gard her, O. 

8. 
When sometimes by my labor, I earn a little money, O 
Some unforseen misfortune, comes generally upon 

me; O 
Mischance, mistake, or by neglect, or my good-na- 

tur'd folly ; O 
But come what will, I've sworn it still, I'll ne'er be 

melancholy, O. 

9. 

All you who follow wealth, and power with unremit- 
ting ardour, O 

The more in this you look for bliss, you leave your 
view the farther ; O 

Had you the wealth Potosi boasts, or nations to adore 
you, O 

A cheerful honest hearted clown, I will prefer before 
you, O. 



436 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 



SONG. 

1. 
O WHISTLE and Pll come to you, my lad, 
O whistle, and Pll come to you my lad: 
Tho' father and mither^ and a'^ should gae' mad, 

whistle and I'll come to you, my lad. 

xvhistie, £s?c. 

2. 
But warily* tent, when ye come to court me, 
And come nae' unless the back-yett^ be a jee ;'' 
Syne^ up the back-style,^ and let nae^° body see, 
And come as ye were na corain' to me. 

whistle^ ^c. 

3. 
At kirk," or at market, whene'er ye meet me, 
Gang^^ by me as tho' that ye car'd nae a flie ;^' 
But steal me a blink o'" your bonie black e'e,'^ 
Yet look as ye were na lookin' at me. 

O whistle ^c. 

4. 
Ay^^ vow and protest that ye care na for me, 
And vhyles ye may lightly'^ my beauty a wee;^^ 
But court nae anither," tho' jokin' ye be. 
For fear that she wyle^° your fiincy frae^^ me. 

whistle, ^c. 

1 Mother. 9 Steps to go over a 15 Eye. 

2 All. fence where a foot 16 Always. 

3 Go. ■ ■ 
■4 Cautiously observe. 

5 Not. 

6 Gate. 

7 A little open. 

8 Then. 



path crosses. 


17 TalkindifferenUyof. 


10 No. 


IS Little. 


11 Church. 


19 Another. 


12 Go. 


20 Entice. 


13 Fly. 


21 From. 


14 Of. 





ROBERT BURNS. 



OPEN THE DOOR TO ME, OH! 

1. 

OH open the door, some pity to shew, 

Oh, open the door to me Oh, 
Tho' thou hast been false, I'll ever prove true, 

Oh, open the door to me. Oh. 

2. 
Caiild* is the blast upon my pale cheek, 

But caulder thy love for me Oh : 
The frost that freezes the life at my heart, 

Is nought to my pains frae^ thee. Oh. 

3. 
The wan moon is setting behind the white wave, 

And time is setting with me, Oh : 
False friends, false love, farewell ! for mair^ 

I'll ne'er trouble them, nor thee. Oh. 

4. 
She has open'd the door, she has open'd it wide. 

She sees his pale corse on the plain, Oh : 
My true love she cried, and sank down by his side, 

Never to rise again, Oh. 

I Cold. 2 From. 3 More. 



SONG. 



Mr — " Lumps o' Pudding." 

1. 
CONTENTED wi'^ little, and cantie=^ wi' mair. 
Whene'er I forgather^ wi' sorrow and care, 
I gie* them a skelp,' as they're creepin' alang,^ 
Wi' a cog' o' gude swats, and an auld* Scottish sang.^ 

1 With. 4 Give. 7 Drink of good ale. 

2 Cheerful with more. 5 Slap. 8 Old. 

3 Meet accidentally. 6 Along. 9 Song, 



438 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

2. 
I whyles claw the elbow o' troublesome thought : 
But man is a sodger/ and life is a faught :^ 
My mirth and good humour are coin in my pouch,^ 
And my Freedom''s my lairdship nae"* monarch dare 
touch. 

3. 
A towmond* o' trouble, should that be my fa',^ 
A night o' gude fellowship sowthers^ it a': 
When at the blythe end of our journey at last, 
Wha^ the deil ever thinks o' the road he has past. 

4. " 
Blind chance, let her snapper and stoyte^ on her way; 
Be't to me, be't frae me, e'en let the jade gae :^° 
Come ease, or come travail; come pleasure or pain; 
My warst" word is — ' Welcome and welcome again!" 

1 Soldier. 5 Twelvemonth. 9 Stagger and stumble 

2 Fight. 6 Lot. 10 Go. 

3 Pocket. 7 Solders it all. 11 Worst. 

4 No. 8 Who. 



FOR THE SAKE OF SOMEBODY. 

1. 

MY heart is sair^ I dare na^ tell, 
My heart is sair for somebody ; 
I could wake a winter night 
For the sake of somebody. 
Oh-hon ! for somebody ! 
Oh-hey ! for somebody ! 
I could range the world around, 
For the sake o'^ somebody. 

2. 
Ye powers that smile on virtuous love, 
O, sweetly smile on somebody I 

1 Sore. 2 Not. 3 Of. 



ROBERT BURNS. 439 

Frae^ ilka danger keep him free, 
And send me safe my somebody, 

Oh hon ! for somebody ! 

Oh -hey ! for somebody I 
I wad^ do — what wad I not. 
For the sake o' somebody ! 

1 From every. 2 Would 



PHILLIS THE FAIR. 

Tune — " Robin Adair." 

1. 
WHILE larks with little wing, 

FannM the pure air, 
Tasting the breathing spring, 

Forth I did fare : 
Gay the sun's golden eye. 
Peep o'er the mountains high ; 
Such thy morn ! did I cry, 

Phillis the fair. 

2. 
In each bird's careless song, 

Glad I did share ; 
While yon wild flowers among, 

Chance led me there ; 
Sweet to the opening day, 
Rosebuds bent the dewy spray ; 
Such thy bloom, did 1 say, 

Phillis the fair. 

3. 
Down in a shady walk, 

Doves cooing were, 
I mark'd the cruel hawk 

Caught in a snare : 



440 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

So kind may fortune be, 
Such make his destiny ! 
He who vvoiild injure thee, 
Phillis the fair. 



BEWARE 0' BONIE ANN. 

Burns composed this out of compliment to Miss Ann Mas- 
terton, the daughter of his friend, Allan Masterton, the 
author of the air af Strathallan's Lament, and two or 
three others in this work. 

See Willie BrewH a Peck o' Maut. 



1. 

YE gallants bright I rede' ye right, 

Beware o'^ bonie Ann ; 
Her comely face sae^ fu' o' grace, 

Your heart she will trepan. 
Her een^ sae bright, like stars by night, 

Her skin is like the swan ; 
Sae jimply* lac'd her genty® waist, 

That sweetly she might span. 

2. 
Youth, grace, and love, attendant move, 

And pleasure leads the van ; 
In a" their charms, and conquering arms. 

They wait on bonie Ann. 
The captive bands may chain the hands, 

But love enslaves the man ; 
Ye gallants braw,* I rede you a', 

Beware o' Bonie Ann. 



1 Warn. 


4 Eves. 


7 All. 


2 Of. 


5 Neatly. 


8 Gay. 


3 So full. 


6 Genlle. 





ROBERT BURNS, 441 



THE GARDENER WI' HIS PAIDLE. 

1. 

WHEN rosy May comes in wi'^ flowers, 
To deck her gay, green- spreading bowers ; 
Then busy, busy are his hours. 
The gard'ner wi' his paidle.*^ 

2. 
The crystal waters greatly fa' f 
The merry birds are lovers a' ;^ 
The scented breezes round him blaw,* 
The gard'ner wi' his paidle. 

3. 
When purple morning starts the hare 
To steal upon her early fare ; 
Then thro' the dews he maun" repair, 
The gard'ner wi' his paidle. 

4. 
When day expiring in the west, 
The curtain draws of nature's rest 5 
He flies to her arms he lo'es' best, 
The gard'ner wi' his paidle. 

1 With. 4 All. 6 Must, 

a Small spade. 5 Blow, 7 Loves. 

3 FalU 



MY HEART 'S IN THE HIGHLANDS, 

1. 

MY heart's in the Highlands, my heart is not here; 
My heart 's in the Highlands a chasing the deer; 
Chasing the wild deer, and following the roe, 
Mv heart 's in the Highlands wherever I go. 
Furewell to the Highlands, farewell to the north, 
The birth-place of'valour, the country of worth; 
Wherever I wander, wherever I rove, 
The hills of the Highlands forever I love. 

3 K 



442 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

2. 
Farewell to the mountains high cover'd with snow; 
Farewell to the straths' and green vallies below : 
Farewell to the forests and wild hanging woods ; 
Farewell to the torrents and loud-pouring floods. 
My heart 's in the Highlands, my heart is not here, 
My heart 's in the Highlands, a chasing the deer: 
Chasing the wild deer, and following the roe, 
My heart 's in the Highlands, wherever I go* 

1 Vallies confined by mountains on two sides of a river- 



SONG. 

Tune — " My Nannie 0." 

1. 
BEHIND yon hills where Lugar* flows, 

'Mang^ moors and mosses many, O, 
The wint'ry sun the day has clos'd, 

And I'll awa* to Nannie, O. 

2. 
The weStlin^ wind blaws^ lowd an' shrill ; 

The night's baith* mirk and rainy, O, 
But I'll get my plaid, an' out I'll steal, 

An' owre^ the hills to Nannie, O. 

3. 
My Nannie's charming, sweet, an' young ; 

Nae' artfu' wiles to win ye, O : 
May ill befa'^ the flattering tongue 

That wad^ beguile my Nannie, O. 



I Among, 


4 Blows loud and. 


7 No artful, 


2 Away, 


5 Boih daik. 


8 Belal. 


3 Western. 


6 Over. 


9 Would. 



* The Lugar is a romantic stream in Ayrshire, which takes its rise in the 
Cumnock lakes, -ind runiiing towards tlie wtst a ft w miles s.ulh ot Vlauchline, 
after winding thr'iu.s<h mosses, woods, and prt-cipices, dischtirgt-s itstlfinto the 
river Ayr ai B 'r^kimming. Tiie farm of Mosgiel, where Burns once residetJ, 
Js not above two miles distant from the Lugar. 



ROBERT BURNS. 443 

4. 
Her face is fair, her heart is true. 

As spotless as she's bonnie, O ; 
The op'ning gowan/ wet vvi^ dew, 

Nae purer is than Nannie, O. 

5. 
A country lad is my degree, 

And few there be that ken^ me, O ; 
But what care I how few they be, 

I am welcome ay"* to Nannie, O. 

6. 
My riches, a's my penny-fee. 

An' I maun* guide it cannie,^ O ; 
But warl's' gear ne'er troubles me. 

My thoughts are a'* my Na«nie, O. 

7. 
Our aukP guidman delights to view 

His sheep an' kye*° thrive bonnie, O ; 
But I'm as blythe that hauds^^ his pleugh. 

An' has nae care but Nannie, O. 

8. 
Come weel,^^ come woe, I care na" by, 

I'll tak" what Heav'n will sen' me, O ; 
Nae ither" care in life have I, 

But live, an' love my Nannie, O. 

1 Mountain daisy. 6 Cautious, 11 Holds his plough. 

2 With. 7 Worldly wealth. 12 Well. 

3 Know. 8 All. 13 Not. 

4 Always. 9 Old goodman. 14 Take. 

5 Must. 10 Cows. 15 No other. 



MONTGOMERY'S PEGGY— A Fragment. 

Tune — " Galla water." 

The following fragment is done in imitation of the manner 
of an old noble Scotch piece, called M'Millan's Peggy. The 
author has tried to pursue in this extempore thing, the ir- 
regularity of the rhyme, which, when so judiciously done, 
has such a fine eflfect on the ear. 



444 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

1. 
ALTHO' my bed were in yon muir/ 

Amang^ the heather, in my plaidie, 
Yet happy, happy would I be 

Had I my dear Montgomerie's Peggy. — 

2. 
When o'er the hill beat surly storms, 

And winter nights were dark and rainy ; 
I'd seek some dell and in my arms 

I'd shelter dear Montgomerie's Peggy. — 

3. 
Were I a baron, proud and high, 

And horse and servants waiting ready, 
Then a' 'twad^ gie o' joy to me. 

The sharin't with Montgomerie's Peggy. 

1 Moor. 3 All it would give of joy 

2 Among the heath. 4 Sharing it. 



BONNIE BELL. 

1. 

THE smiling spring comes in rejoicing, 

And surly winter grimly flies ! 
Now crystal clear are the falling waters. 

And bonnie blue are the sunny skies ; 
Fresh o'er the mountains breaks forth the morning, 

The ev'ning gilds the ocean's swell ; 
All creatures joy in the sun's returning, 

And I rejoice in my bonnie Bell. 

2. 
The flow'ry spring leads sunny summer, 

And yellow autumn presses near, 
Then in his turn comes gloomy winter, 

'Till smiling spring again appear. 
Thus season dancing, life advancing, 

Old time and nature their changes tell, 
But never ranging, still unchanging 

I adore my bonnie Bell. 



ROBERT BURNS. 445 



HEY FOR A LASS WF A TOCHER, 

1. 

AWA* wi' your witchcraft o'^ beauty's alarms, 
The slender bit beauty you grasp in your arms : 
O' gie^ me the lass that has acres o' charms, 
O, gie me the lass wi' the weel^ stockit farms. 

CHORUS. 

Then hey for a lass wP a tocher;^ then hey for a 

lass wv a tocher^ 
Then hey for a lass wi^ a tocher; the nice yellow 

guineas for me, 

2. 
Your beauty's a flower, in the morning that blows, 
And v^ ithf-rs the faster, the faster it grows ; 
But the rapturous charm o' the bonie green knowes,^ 
Ilk' spring they're new deckit' wi' bonie white yowes.^ 

Then hey^ ^c. 

3. 
And e'en when this beauty your bosom has blest, 
The brightest o' beauty may cloy, when possest; 
But the sweet, yellow darlings wi' Geordie imprest, 
The langer^" ye hae^^ them — the mair^^ they're carest. 

Then hey y ^c. 

1 Away with. 5 Dowry. 9 Ewes. 

2 Of. 6 Hillocks. 10 Longer. 

3 Give. 7 Every. 11 Have. 

4 Well stocked. 8 Decked. 12 More. 



THE LOVELY LASS OF INVERNESS. 

1. 

THE lovely lass o' Inverness, 

Nae^ joy nor pleasure can she see ; 

1 No. 



446 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

For e'en and morn she cries, alas I 
And ay^ the saut^ tear bhns^ her e'e :" 

Drumofsie moor, Drumofsie day, 
A waefu'* day it was to me ; 

For there I lost my father dear, 

My father dear and brethren three. 

2. 
Their winding; sheet the bluidy^ clay, 

Their graves are growing green to see ; 
And by them lies the dearest lad 

That ever blest a woman's e'e ! 
Now wae to thee, thou cruel lord, 

A bluidy man I trow thou be ; 
For mony^ a heart thou hast made sair,^ 

That ne'er did wrong to thine or thee. 

1 Always. 4 Eye, 7 Many. 

2 Salt. 5 Woeful. 8 Sore. 

3 Blinds. 6 Bloody. 



THE BLUE-EYED LASSIE. 

The heroine of this song was Miss J****, of Lochmaban. 
This lady (now Mrs, R«****,) after residing some time in 
Liverpool, is settled with her husband in New York. 

1. 
I GAED^ a waefu' gate, yestreen, 

A gate,^ I fear, I'll dearly rue ; 
I gat^ my death frae"* twa sweet, e'en, 

Twa lovely e'en o' bonnie blue. 

2. 
'Twas not her golden ringlets bright : 

Her lips like roses, wat* wi' dew. 
Her heaving bosom, lily-white — 

li was her e'en sae^ bonnie blue. 

1 Went a woeful way 3 Got. 5 Wet. 
lastnight. 4 From two sweeteyes, 6 So. 

2 Way. 



ROBERT BURNS. 44^ 

3. 

She talked, she smiPd, my heart she wyl'dj 
She charm'd my soul I wist na^ how 5 

And ay^ the stound,^ the deadly wound, 
Cam'' frae her e'en sae bonnie blue. 

4. 
But spare to speak, and spare to speed ; 

She'll aiblins* listen to my vow ; 
Should she refuse, I'll lay my dead 

To her twa e'en sae bonnie blue. 

1 Not. 3 Acute pain affecting 4 Came. 

2 Always. one at intervals. 5 Perhaps. 



STRATHALLAN'S LAMENT.* 



^ 



1. 
THICKEST night o'erhang my dwelling * 

Howling tempests o'er me rave ! 
Turbid torrents, wintry swelling, 

Sill surround m}- wintry cave ! 

2. 
Crystal streamlets gently flowing, 

Busy haunts of base mankind, 
Western breezes softly blowing, 

Suit not my distracted mind. 

3. 
In the cause of right engaged, 

Wrongs injurious to redress, 
Honor's w^ar we strongly waged, 
But the heavens deny'd success. 

I 

• Strathallan, it is presumed, was one of the followers of the young Che- 
Talier ; and is supposed lo be lying concealed in some cave of the Highlands, 
after the battle of CuUodcn. This song was written before the year 1788. 



448 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

4. 

Ruin's wheel has driven o'er us, 
Not a hope that dare attend, 

The wide world is all before us — 
But a world without a friend ! 



BANKS OF CREE. 

This song was written to suit an air, " The banks of Cree," 
composed by lady Elizabeth Heron. Cree is a beautiful 
romantic stream, which rises in the northern parts of the 
county of Wigton ; and after forming the boundary be- 
tween the counties of Wigton and JCirkcudbright, falls 
into the bay of Wigton near Creetown. 



1. 
HERE is the glen, and here the bower, 

Ail underneath the birchen shade ; 
The village bell has told the hour, — 

O what can stay my lovely maid. 

2, 
'Tis not Maria's whispering call ; 

'Tis but the balmy-breathing gale, 
Mixt with some warbler's dying fall 

The dewy star of eve to hail. 

3. 
It is Maria's voice I hear ! 

So calls the woodlark in the grove, 
His litde, faithful mate to cheer, 

At once 'tis music — and 'tis love. 

4. 
And art thou come ! and art thou true I 

O welcome dear to love and me I 
And let us all our vows reneu', 
Along the flow'ry banks of Cree. 



ROBERT BURNS. 449 

THE BANKS OF NITH. 

Time — " Robie Donna Gorach.''' 

1. 

THE Thames flows proudly to the sea, 

Where royal cities stately stand; 
But sweeter flows the Nith to me, 

Where Cummins ance* had high command : 
When shall I see that honored land, 

That windin^y^ stream I love so dear ! 
Must wayward fortune^'s adverse hand 

For ever, ever keep me here. 

2. 
How lovely, Nith, thy fruitful vales, 

Where spreading hawthorns gayly bloom ; 
How sweetly wind thy sloping dales 

Where lambkins wanton thro' the broom ! 
Tho' wandering, now must be my doom, 

Far from thy bonnie banks and braes, ^ 
May there my latest hours consume, 

Amang^ the friends of early days ! 

I Once. 2 Hills. 3 Among-. 



THE DAY RETURNS MY BOSOM BURNS. 

Tune — " Seventh of November." 

This Air was composed by the gentleman, the aniversary of 
whose marriage the song was written to celebrate. Burn's 
says of this song, " I composed it out of compliment to 
one of the happiest and worthiest couples in the world, 
Robert Riddel Esq. of Glenriddel, and his lady. At their 
fire-side I have enjoyed more pleasant evenings than at all 
the houses of fasliionable people in this county put to- 
gether ; and to their kindness and hospitality, I am in- 
debted for many of the happiest hours of mv life. 

3 I. 



450 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

1. 

THE day returns, my l)osom burns, 

The blissful day we twa^ did meet, 
Tho' winter wild in tempest t(3iFd, 

Ne'er summer sun was half sae^ sweet. 
Than a'^ the pride that loads the tide, 

And crosses o'er the sultry line ; 
Than kingly robes, than crowns and globes, 

Heaven gave me more, it made thee mine, 

2. 
While day and night can bring delight, 

Or nature aught of pleasure give ! 
While joys above, my mind can move, 

For thee, and thee alone, I live ! 
When that grim foe of life below 

Comes in between to make us part ; 

The iron hand that breaks our band, 

It breaks my bliss — it breaks my heart, 

1 Two. 2 So. 3 All. 



RAVING WINDS AROUND HER BLOWING. 

Tune — " M'Gregor of Rero's Lament." 

These verses were composed on Miss Isabella M'Leod of 
Raza, (afterwards Mrs. Ross, and a very great friend of 
our poet) alluding to her feelings on the death of her sis- 
ter, and the still more melancholy death of her sister's 
husband, the late Earl of Loudon ; who shot himself out of 
sheer heart break at some mortifications he suffered, owing 
to the deranged state of his finances. 



1. 
RAVING winds around her blowings 
Yellov, leaves the woodlands strewing. 
By a river hoarsely roaring, 
Isabella stray'd deploring, 

i 



ROBERT BURNS. 451 

" Farewell, hours that late did measure 
Sunshine days of jov and#pleasure ; 
Hail thou gloomy night of sorrow, 
Cheerless night that knows no morrow. 

2. 
'' O'er the past too fondly wandering. 
On the hopeless future pondering ; 
Chilly grief my life-blood freezes, 
Fell despair my fancy seizes. 
Life, thou soul of every blessing, 
Load to misery most distressing, 
O how gladly Pd resign thee. 
And to dark oblivion join thee !" 



• CRAIGIE-BURN WOOD. 

€raigie-burn wood is situated on the banks of the river Mof- 
fat, and about three miles distant from the village of that 
name in Dumfries-shire, celebrated for its medicinal wa- 
ters. The woods of Craigie-burn and Dumcrief were at 
one time favourite haunts of our Poet. It was there he 
met the "Lassie wi' the Lintwhite Locks," and that he 
conceived several of of his beautiful lyrics. The Song was 
composed on a passion, which a Mr. Gillespie, a particular 
friend of the Poet, had conceived for a Miss Loi'imer, (the 
Chloris of Burns,) afterwards Mrs. Whelpdale : the young 
lady was born at Craigie-burn wood. 

There was a notice of this Lady in a late London paper, which, 
if authentic, shows in a veiy striking manner, that neither 
the charms of beauty nor the powers of Song, can rescue 
their subject from the wrinkles of age and the gripe of po- 
verty. This Lady, after having rejected the overtures of 
many, who, captivated by her beauty, strove in vain, to win 
her affection, at leng-th eloped with Mr. Whelpdale, a mili- 
tary officer, and was luarried. A female relation of Burns, 
who resided with him at EUisland, had frequent opportu- 
nities of seeing Miss L. at Burns' House. That person now 
resides in Mauchlme, and was lately much surprised to 
discover, in the person of an old woman, whom she invited 
to a night's lodging, the. identical "Lassie wi' the iint- 
white locks!" 



452 TlA: POETICAL WORKS OF 

1. 

SWEET fa's^ the eve on Cragie-burn, 
And blythe awakes the morrow, 

But a' the pride o' spring's return 
Can yield me nocht^ but sorrow. 

2. 
I see the flowers and spreading trees, 

I hear the wild birds singing ; 
But what a weary wight can please, 

And care his bosom wringing ? 

3. 
Fain, fain would I my griefs impart, 

Yet dare na^ for your anger ; 
But secret love will break my heart, 

If I conceal it langer.^ 

4. 
If thou refuse to pity me, 

If thou shalt love anither,^ 
When yon green leaves fade frae^ the tree, 

Around my grave they'll wither. 

1 Falls. 3 Not. 5 Another. 

2 Nought. 4 Longer. 6 From. 



VARIATION. 



flpyond thee dearie, beijond thee, deaiie, 
Jind to he Jying bcyimd thee, 
O s-weetly, soundly, ueel may he sleep, 
Thafs laid in the bed beyond thee. 

1. 
SWEET closes the evening on Craigie-burn wood. 

And blvthely awakens the morrow ; 
But the pride of the spring in the Craigie-burn woodj 
Can yield to nie nothing but sorrow. 

Jieyond thee, &c. 

2. 
I see the spreading leaves and flowers, 

I hear the wild birds singinsr, 
But pleasure they hae nane for me. 
While care my heart is wringing. 

Beyond thee, iJc. 



i 



ROBERT BURNS. 453 



SONG. 



1. 

IT was the charming month of May, 
When all the flow'rs were fresh and gay, 
One morning, by the br^ak o' day, 
The youthful, charming Chloe ; 

From peaceful slumber she arose, 
Girt on her mantle and her hose, 
And o'er the flowery mead she goes, 
The youthful, charming Chloe. 

CHORUS 

hovely was she by the dawn, 
^ Yoiithfu, Chloe, charming Chloe, 

Tripping o^er the pearly laxvn. 
The youthful, charming Chloe, 



I canna tell, I maun na tell, 

I dare na foi- your anger, 
But secret love will break my lieart, 

If I conceal it langer. 

Beyond thee, &c. 

4. 
I see thee gracefu', straight, and tall, 

I see thee sweet and bonnie. 
But oh, what will my torments be. 
If thou refuse thy Johnie ! 

Beyond thee, &c. 

5. 
To see thee in anither's arms. 

In love to lie and languish, 
"Tl'wad be my dead, that will be seen, 
My heart wad burst wi' anguish. 

Beyond thee, &c. 

C. 
But Jeanie, say thou will be mine. 
Say, thou lo'es nana before me ; 
And a' my days o' life to come 
I'll gratefully adore thee. 

Beyond thee, &c.' 



* The Chorus is part of an old ballad. 



454 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

2. 
The feather'd people, you might see 
Perch'd all around on ev'ry tree, 
In notes of sweetest melody 

They hail the charming Chloe : 

^Till, painting gay the eastern skies, 
The glorious sun began to rise, 
Out-rivall'd by the radient eyes 
Of youthful, charming Chloe. 

Lovely was she ^c. 



SONG. 

Air—" Cauld Kail." 

1. 

COME let me take thee to my breast. 

And pledge we ne'er shall sunder ; 
And I shall spurn as vilest dust 

The warld's^ wealth and grandeur : 
And do I hear my Jeanie own. 

That equal transports move her ? 
I ask for dearest life alone 

That I may live to love her. 

2. 
Thus in my arms, wi' a' thy charms, 

I clasp my countless treasure ; 
I'll seek nae^ mair o' heaven to share. 

Than sic^ a moment's pleasure : 
And by thy een,'' sae^ bonnie blue, 

I swear I'm thine for ever ! 
And on thy lips I seal my vow, 

And break it shall I never. 

1 World's. 4 Eyes. 

2 No more. * So. 

3 Such. 



i 



ROBERT BURNS. 455 

ADDRESS TO THE WOOD-LARK. 

Tune, — " Where '11 Bonnie Ann, Lie." 

1. 
O STAY, sweet warbling wood-lark stay, 
Nor quit for me the trembling spray, 
A hapless lover courts thy lay, 
Thy soothing fond complaining. 

2. 
Again, again that tender part, 
That I may catch thy melting art ; 
For surely that wad^ touch her heart, 
Wha^ kills me wi' disdaining. 

3. 

Say,' was thy little mate unkind, 
And heard thee as the careless wind ? 
Oh, nocht" but love and sorrow join'd, 
Sic* notes o' woe could wauken.^ 

4. 
Thou tells o' never-ending care ; 
O' speechless grief, and dark despair ; 
For pity's sake, sweet bird, nae*^ mair ! 
Or my poor heart is broken ! 

1 Would. S Nought. 5 Waken. 

2 Who. 4 Such. 6 No moiv 



SONG. 

Tmu — "The last time I came o'er the Moor,'- 

1. 
FAREWELL thou stream that winding flows 

Around Maria's dwelling ! 
Ah cruel mem'ry ! spare the throes 

Within my bosom swelling : 



456 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

Condemn'd to drag a hopeless chain 
And still in secret, languish ; 

To feel a fire in ev'ry vein, 

Yet dare not speak my anguish. 

2. 
The wretch of love, unseen, unknown, 

I fain my crime would cover : 
The bursting sigh, th' unweeting groan, 

Betray the hopeless lover. 
I know my doom must be despair, 

Thou wilt nor canst reheve me ; 
But oh, Maria, hear one prayer. 

For pity's sake forgive me. 

3. 
The music of thy tongue I heard, 

Nor wist while it enslav'd me ; 
I saw thine eyes, yet nothing fear'd, 

'Till fears no more had sav'd me. 
The unwary sailor thus aghast, 

The wheeling torrent viewing ; 
'Mid circling horrors yields at last 

To overwhelming ruin. 



MARY MORISON. 

Tune — " Bide ye yet." 

This is one of Burn's juvenile production*. 

1. 
O MARY, at thy window be, 

It is the wish'd, the trysted^ hour; 
Tl?ose smiles and glances let me see. 

That make the miser's treasure poor : 

1 Appointed c 



{ 



ROBERT BURNS. 457 

How blythely wad^ I bide the stoiir,^ 

A weary slave frae^ sun to sun ; 
Could I the rich reward secure, 

The lovely Mary Morison. 

2. 
Yestreen"* when to the trembling string, 

The dance gaed* thro' the lighted ha',® 
To thee my fancy took its wing, 

I sat, but neither heard nor saw : 
Tho' this was fair, and that was braw,^ 

And you the toast of a' the town, 
I sigh'd, and said, amang* them a', 

*' Ye are na® Mary Morison." 

3. 
O Mary, canst thou wreck his peace, 

Wha^° for thy sake wad gladly die ! 
Or canst thou break that heart of his, 

Whase*^ only faut*^ is loving thee I 
If love for love thou wilt na gie,^^ 

At least be pity to me shown; 
A thought ungentle canna^" be 

The thought o' Mary Morison. 



I Would I suffer. 


6 Hall. 


11 Whose. 


2 Hartlship. 


7 Handsome. 


12 Fault. 


;; From. 


8 Among. 


l.S Give. 


4 l.astnight. 


9 Not. 


14 Cannot. 


5 Went. 


10 Who. 





SONG. 

Tune — " I had a Horse." 

1. 
O POORTITH^ cauld, and restless love, 

Ye wreck my peace between ye ! 
Yet poortith a' I could forgive, 

An' 'twere na'^ for my Jeanie. \ 

1 Poverty cold. 2 Not. 

3 M 



458 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

O why should fate sic^ pleasure have, 
Life's dearest bands untwining? 

Or why sae^ sweet a flower as love, 
Depend on Fortune's shining? 

2. 
This warld's^ wealth when I think on, 

It's pride, and a' the lavC o't ; 
Fie, fie on silly coward man. 

That he should be the slave o't ; 
O tuhyy &fc. 

3. 

Her een* sae bonie blue, betray 
How she repays my passion ; 

But prudence is her o'erword ay,^ 
She talks of rank and fashion. 
O whi/y ^c. 

4. 
O wha' can prudence think upon, 

And sic a lassie by him ? 
O wha can prudence think upon. 

An sae in love as I am ? 

O why^ ^c. 

5. 
How blest the humble cotter's fate !* 

He wooes his simple dearie ; 
The silly bogles,* wealth an state. 
Can never make them eerie. ^ 
rvhyj ^c. 



1 Such. 


4 Rest of it. 


7 Who. 


2 So. 


5 Eyes. 


8 Spirits- 


3 World's. 


6 Always. 


9 Fearful. 



•' The wild-wood Indian's fate" in the original. 



ROBERT BURNS. 459 



MY TOCHER'S THE JEWEL. 

1. 
O MEIKLE* thinks my lave' o' my beauty, 

And meikle thinks my luve o' my kin ; 
But httle thinks my luve I ken^ brawlie, 

My tocher's^ the jewel has charms for him. 
It's a' for the apple he'll nourish the tree ; 

It's a' for the hiney^ he'll cherish the bee, 
My laddie's sae^ meikle in luve vvi' the siller,^ 

He canna^ hae luve to spare for me. 

2. 
Your proffer o' luve's an airle^- penny. 

My tocher's the bargain ye wad^° buy ; 
But an" ye be crafty, 1 am cunnin', 

Sae ye wV anither^' your fortune maun" try. 
Ye're like to the timmer^^ o' yon rotten vi^ood, 

Ye're like to the bark o' yon rotten tree, 
Ye'll slip frae" me like a knodess thread. 

And ye'll crack your credit wi' mae^° nor me. 



I Much. 


7 Money. 


12 Another, 


2 Love. 


8 Cannot have. 


13 Must- 


3 Know very well. 


9 Earnest-money. 


14 Timber. 


4 Dowry's. 


10 Would. 


15 From. 


5 Honey, 


11 If. 


16 More. 


6 So. 







SONG. 

Tune. — " Jockey's grey breeks." 

1. 
AGAIN rejoicing nature sees 

Her robe assume its vernal hues, 
Her leafy locks wave in the breeze, 

All freshly steep'd in morning dews. 



460 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

CHORUS.* 

And jnaiiti^ I still on Meme-\ doaf, 
And bear the scorn thafs in her e'e !' 

For it'' s jet ^ jet black, an^ it's like a hawk, 
Ai^ it winna^ let a body be ! 

-2. 
In vain to me the cowslips blaw/ 

In vain to me the vi'lets spring ; 
In vain to me, in glen or shavv, 

The mavis* and the lintwhite sing. 

Ajid maun I stilly ^c. 



The merry plough boy cheers his team, 

Wi' joy the tentie^ seedsman stalks, 
But life to me's a weary dream, 
A dream of ane^ that never wauks/ 

And maim I still, ^c. 

4. 
The wanton coot the water skims, 

Amang^ the reeds the ducklings cry, 
The stately swan majestic swims, 
And every thing is blest but I. 

And maun I still, ^c. 

5. 
The sheep-herd steeks^° his faulding" slap, 

And owre^^ the moorlands whistles shill,^-^ 
Wi' wild, unequal, wand'ring step 
I meet him on the dewy hill. 

And maun J still, ^c. 

1 Must. G Watchful. 10 Shuts. 

'2 Eye. 7 One. 11 Folding gate. 

3 Will not. 8 Wakes. 1'2 Over. 

4 Blow. 9 Among. 13 Shrill. 

5 Thrush and the Linnet. 

• This chorus is jiart of a song composed by a gentleman in Edinburgh, a 
J) articular friend of the author's. 
f Meiiie is the common abreviation of Mariamne. 



ROBERT BURNS. 461 

6. 
And when the lark, 'tween lic^ht and dark, 

Blythe waukens^ by the daisy's side, 
And mounts and sinp;s on flitterins;^ wings, 
A woe-worn ghaist^ 1 hameward^ glide. 
And ?jiaun I stilly ^c. 

_ 7. 
Come winter, with thine angry howl, 

And raging bend the naked tree ; 
Thy gloom will soothe my cheerless soul, 
When nature all is sad like me ! 

And maun I still, <3'c. 

1 Wakens. '2 Fluttering. 3 Ghost. 4 Homeward. 



SONG. 



These beautiful verses were written with a view to an unfor- 
tunate part in the story of the Poet's friend and corre- 
spondent, Mr. Cunningham, nephew of the celebrated his- 
torian. Dr. Robertson, of Edinburgh. 



1. 

HAD I a cave on some wild, distant shore. 
Where the winds howl to the waves' dashing roar 
There would I weep my woes, 
There seek my lost repose, 
'Till grief my eyes should close. 
Ne'er to wake more. 

2. 
Falsest of womankind, canst thou declare, 
All thy fond plighted vows — fleeting as air I 
To thy new lover hie, 
Laugh o'er thy perjury. 
Then in thy bosom try. 
What peace is there ! 



462 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 



FRAGMENT. 

1. 

HER flowing locks, the raven's wing, 
Adown her neck and bosom hing ; 

How sweet unto that breast to ciing, 
And round that neck entwine her ! 

2. 
Her lips are roses wat^ wi' dew, 

O, what a feast, her bonnie mou !' 
Her cheeks a mair^ celestial hue, 

A crimson still diviner. 

1 Wet. 2 Mouth. 3 More. 



SONG. 

Tune — " Banks of Banna." 

1. 
YESTREEN^ I had a pint o' wine, 

A place where body saw na' f 
Yestreen lay on this breast o' mine 

The gowden^ locks of Anna. 
The hungry Jew in wilderness 

Rejoicing o'er his manna, 
Was naething^ to my hinny* bliss 

Upon the lips of Anna. 

2. 
Ye monarchs tak^ the east and west, 

Frae' Indus to Savannah ! 
Gie^ me within my straining grasp 

The melting form of Anna. 



1 Lastnight. 

2 Not. 

3 Golden. 



4 Nothing. 


7 From 


5 Honey. 


8 Give. 


6 Take. 





ROBERT BURNS. 463 

There I'll despise imperial charms, 

An Empress or Sultana, 
While dying raptures in her arms 

I give and take with Anna ! 

3. 

Awa^ thou flaunting god o' day ! 
Awa' thou pale Diana ! 

llk^ star gae^ hide thy twinkling ray- 
When I'm to meet my Anna. 

Come, in thy raven plumage, night, 
Sun, moon, and stars withdrawn a'"; 

And bring an angel pen to write 
My transports wi' my Anna 1 

1 Away. 2 Each. 3 Go. 



THE BONNIE WEE THING. 

1. 
BONNIE wee* thing, cannie^ wee thing, 

Lovely wee thing was thou mine ; 
I wad^ wear thee in my bosom, 

Lest my jewel I should tine."* 

2. 
Wishfully I look and languish 

In that bonnie face of thine ; 
And ray heart it stounds* wi' anguish, 

Lest my wee thing be na^ mine. 

3. 
Wit, and grace, and love and beauty, 

In ae'' constellation shine ; 
To adore thee is my duty, 
Goddess o' this soul o' mine ! 

Bojinie V)ee^ ^c. 



1 Little. 


4 Lose. 


6 Not. 


2 Gentle. 


5 Aches. 


7 One. 


3 Would. 







464 THE POETICAL AVORKS OF 



BALLAD. 

L 

TO thee, lov'd Nith, thy gladsome plains, 
Where late vvi' careless thought I ranged, 

Though prest wi' care and sunk in woe, 
To thee I bring a heart unchanged — 

2. 
I love thee Nith, thy banks and braes, ^ 

Tho' mein'ry there my bosom tear ; 
For there he rovM that brake^ my heart, 

Yet to that heart, ah, still how dear ! 

1 Hills. 2 Broke. 



GALLA WATER. 

1. 
THERE'S braw,^ braw lads, on Yarrow braes, ^ 

That wander thro' the blooming heather ;^ 
But Yarrow braes, nor Ettric shaws. 

Can match the lads o' Galla water. 

2. 
But there is ane,"* a secret ane, 

Aboon* them a' I loe^ him better , 
And ni be his, and he'll be mine, 

The bonie lad o' Galla water. 

3. 
Altho' his daddie was nae^ laird, 

And tho' I hae^ na meikle tocher ; 
Yet rich in kindest, truest love. 

We'll tent^ our flocks by Galla water. 



1 Handsome. 


5 Above. 


8 Have not much for- 


2 Banks. 


6 Love. 


tune. 


3 Heath. 


7 No. 


9 Tend. 


4 One. 







ROBERT BURNS. 465 

4. 

It ne'er was wealth, it ne'er was wealth, 
That cofV contentment, peace, or pleasure ; 

The bands and bliss o' mutual love, 
O that's the chiefest warld's^ treasure ! 

1 Bought. 2 World's. 



SONG. 



1. 
WHAT can a young lassie, what shall a young lassie, 

What can a young lassie do wi' an auld^ man ? 
Bad luck on tlie pennie that tempted my minnie^ 
To sell her poor Jenny for siller^ an' Ian' ! 
Bad luck on the pennie ^ hjc. 

2. 

He's always compleenin" frae* mornin' to e'enin, 
He hosts® and hirples^ the weary day lang ;^ 

He's doylt^ and he's dozin,^°his bkide" it is frozen, 
O, dreary's the night wi' a crazy auld man ! 

3. 
He hums and he hankers, he frets and he cankers, 

I never can please him. do a' that I can ; 
He's peevish, and jealous of a' the young fellows, 

O, dooP^ on the day I met wi' an auld man ! 

4. 
My auld auntie Katie upon me takes pity, 

I'll do my endeavour to follow her plan ; 
I'll cross him, and wrack" him, until I heart-break him, 

And then his auld brass will buy me a new pan. 



1 Old. 


6 Couglis. 


10 Benumbed 


'2 Motlier. 


7 Halts. 


11 Blood. 


3 Money and land. 


8 Long. 


12 Woe. 


4 Complaining. 


■ 9 Stupiil. 


1,1 Anger. 


5 From. 







3 K 



466 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

O MAY, THY MORN, 

1. 

MAY, thy morn was ne'er sae sweet. 
As the mirk* night o' December ; 

For sparkling was the rosy wine, 
And private was the chamber ; 

And dear was she I na^ name, 
But I will ay^ remember. 
And dear, ts?c. 

2. 
And here's to them, that, like oursel,'' 

Can push about the jorum ; 
And here's to them that wish us weel,* 

May a' that's gude^ watch o'er them ; 
And here's to them, we dare na tell, 
The dearest o' the quorum. 

And here's to, ts'c 

1 D',<rk. 3 Always. 5 Well. 
'2 Not. 4 Ourselves. 6 Good. 



WILLIE BREWED A PECK O' MAU T 

Willie who "brew'd a peck o' maut," was Mr. William 
Nicol ; and Rob and Allan, were our Poet and his friend 
Allan Masterton. This meeting took place at Laggan, a 
farm purchased by Mr. Nicol, in Nithsdale, on the recom- 
mendation of our bard. These three honest fellows, all 
men of uncommon talents, are now all under the turf 
(1799.) 



1. 

WILLIE brew'd a peck o' maut,' 
And Rob and i\llan cam^ to see ; 

Three blyther hearts, that lee-lang^ night, 
Ye wad* na find in Christendie.^ 

1 Malt. 3 Livelong. 5 CUiistendom. 
1 Came. i Would not. 



ROBERT BURNS. 467 



CHORUS. 

IFe are na foii^^ we're nae that Jbit^ 
But just a dr apple in our e'e :^ 

The cock may craxVy the day may daiv 
And ay^ weUl taste the barley bree.^ 



2. 
Here are we met, three merry boys, 
Three merry boys I trow are we ; 
And mony^'a night we've merry been, 
And mony mae^ we hope to be ! 
fVe are na fou, ^c. 

3. 
It is the moon, I ken^ her horn, 

That's blinkin' in the lift^° sae hie ; 
She shines sae bright to wyle us hame," 

But by my sooth'^ she'll wait a wee !'' 

JVe are na fou^ ^c. 

4. 
Wha" first shall rise to gang^* awa, 
A cuckold, coward loun^^ is he ! 
Wha first beside his chair shall fa',*' 
He is the king among us three ! 

If^ e are na fou^ ^c. 



1 Drunk. 


7 Many. 




'2 Eye. 


8 More. 




3 Crow. 


9 Know. 




4 Dawn. 


10 Sky so 


high. 


5 Still, 


11 Home. 




6 Juice. 


VI Truth. 





13 Little. 

14 Who. 

15 Go away. 

16 Worthless fellow. 

17 Pall. 



WHERE BRAVING ANGRY, ^c. 

Turn — " N. Gow's liamentation for Abercairny." 

This Song was written during the winter of 1787, while the 
Poet was in Edinburgh. It was composed on a most ac- 
complished young lady, a friend of the Bard, Miss Mar- 
garet Chalmers, afterwards Mrs. Lewis Hay, of Edinburgh. 



468 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

1. 
WHERE bravino; angry winter's storms, 

The lofty Ochels rise, 
Ear in their shade my Peggy^s charms 

First blest my wondering eyes. 
As one who by some savage stream, 

A lonely gem surveys, 
Astonished doubly marked its beam, 

With art's most polishM blaze. 

2. 
Blest be the wild, sequesterM shade, 

And blest the day and hour. 
Where Peggy's charms I first surveyed. 

When first I felt their pow'r I 
The tyrant death with grim controul 

May seize my fleeting breath ; 
But tearing Peggy from my soul 

Must be a stronger death. 



SONG. 

Tune. — " Gilderoy." 

1. 

From thee, Eliza I must go. 

And from my native shore ; 
The cruel fates between us throw 

A boundless ocean's roar : 
But boundless oceans, roaring wide. 

Between my love and me, 
They never, never can divide 

My heart and soul from thee : 

2. 
Farewell, farewell Eliza dear, 

The maid that I adore ! 
A boding voice is in my ear, 

We part to meet no more I 



ROBERT BURNS. 469 

But the last throb that leaves my heart, 

While death stands victor by, 
That throb, Eliza, is thy part, 

And thine that latest sigh ! 



THEN GUIDWIFE COUNT THE LAWIN. 

1. 

GANE^ is the day and mirk^ 's the night. 
But we'll ne'er stray for faute^ o' light. 
For ale and brandy's stars and moon, 
And blude'* red wine's the rysin sun. 

CHORUS. 

The?i guidivife^ count the laiv'in^ the laxvin, the 

Icnv'in, 
Then giiichvife count the lawiuy mid bring a cog- 

gie'' mair. 

2. 
There's wealth and ease for gentlemen, 
And semple-folk maun^ fecht and fen ; 
But here we're a' in ae^ accord. 
For ilka'° man that's drunk's a lord, 

Then guidwife county 8V. 

3. 
My coggie is a haly" pool. 
That heals the wounds o' care and dool ;^^ 
And pleasure is a wanton trout, 
An'^^ ye drink it a' ye'll find him out. 

Then guidwife count, ^c. 

1 Gone. Javern reckoning. 10 Every, 

'2 Dark is. 7 Anotlier measure. 11 Holy. 

Want. 8 Must toil and provide. 12 Sorrow. 

4 Blood. 9 One. 13 If. 
6 Landlady. 



470 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 



WANDERING WILLIE. 

1. 
HERE avva,^ there awa, wandering Willie, 

Now tired with wandering, haud^ awa hame ; 
Come to my bosom my ae^ only dearie, 

And tell me thou bring'st me my Willie the same. 

2. 
Loud blew the cauld'' winter winds at our parting ; 

It wasna* the blast brought the tear in my e'e :^ 
Now welcome the simmer,^ and welcome my Willie, 

The simmer to nature, my Willie to me. 

3. 
Ye hurricanes rest in the cave o' your slumbers, 

O how your wild horrors a lover alarms : 
Awaken ye breezes, row gently ye billows. 

And waft my dear laddie ance^ mair to my arms. 

4. 
But if he's forgotten his faithfulest Nanie, 

O still flow between us, thou wide roaring main ; 
May I never see it, may I never trow it, 

But dying believe that my Willie's my ain !' 



I Away. 


4 CoJd. 


7 Summer. 


2 Bend your course 


5 Not. 


8 Once more 


homewards. 


6 Eye. 


9 Own. 


3 One. 







SONG. 

Tune — " The Colliers bonnie Dochter.' 

1. 

O SAW ye bonnie Lesley 
As she gaed^ o'er the border ! 

She's gane^ like Alexander, 

To spread her conquests farther. 

1 Went. 2 Gone. 



ROBERT BURNS. 47-1 

2. 

To see her is to love her, 

And love but her forever ; 
For Nature made her what she is, 

And never made anither.^ 

3. 
Thou art a queen, fair Lesley, 

Thy subjects we, before thee : 
Thou art divine, fair Lesley, 

The hearts o' men adore thee. 

4. 
The Deil he could na scaith^ thee, 

Nor aught that wad^ belang thee ; 
He'd look into thy bonnie face, 

And say " I canna'* wrang thee." 

5. 
The powers aboon* will tent*^ thee ; 

Misfortune sha'na^ steer thee ; 
Thou'rt like themselves sae^ lovely, 

That ill they'll ne'er let near thee. 

6. 
Return again fair Lesley, 

Return to Caledonie ! 
That we may brag, we hae^ a lass 

There's nane^° again sae bonnie. 



I Another. 


5 Above. 


8 So. 


2 Injure. 


6 Attend. 


9 Have. 


3 Would belong. 


7 bhall not molest. 


10 None 


4 Cannot wrong. 







BRUCE TO HIS TROOPS. 

ON THE F:VE of THE BATTLE OF BANNOCKBURX 

This noble ode, unequalled for the independence of the sen- 
timents, and the heroic spirit which it breathes, was com- 
posed by Burns during a storm among the wilds of Glen- 
Ken in Galloway, w^hen on an excursion through that part 
of the countrv. 



472 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

1. 
SCOTS, wha' liae wi' Wallace bled, 
Scots, wham^ Bruce has aften^ led ; 
Welcome to your gory bed, 
Or to glorious victorie. 

2. 
Now's the day and now's the hour ; 
See the front o' battle lour ;'* 
See approach proud Edward's power- 
Edward ! chains and slaverie ! . 

3. 
Wha will be a traitor knave ? 
Wha can fill a coward's grave ? 
Wha sae^ base as be a slave ? 
Traitor ! coward ! turn and flee ! 

4. 
Wha for Scotland's king and law 
Freedom's sword will strongly draw, 
Free-man stand, or free-man fa',^ 
Caledonian ! on wi' me ! 

5. 
By oppression's woes and pains ! 
By your sons in servile chains ! 
We will drain our dearest veins, 
But they shall be — shall be free ! 

6. 
Lay the proud usurpers low ! 
Tyrants fall in every foe ! 
Liberty's in every blow ! 
Forward ! let us do, or die ! 

1 Who have. 3 Often. 5 So. 

2 Whom. 4 Thicken. C Fall. 



ROBERT BURNS. 47£ 



AULD LANG SYNE. 

The Bard has left it doubtful whether this song be his. He 
sometimes wrote ballads in the olden style, which for rea- 
sons best known to himself he gave to the world as songs 
of other times. In his letters he speaks uniformly of 
this as an old ballad, which he "took down from an old 
man's singing," and wishes that " the turf may be light 
on the heaven inspired poet, who composed this glorious 
fragment." Still, however, when we consider his pecu- 
liar humour about his imitations of old ballads, and can 
trace so many strokes in the piece, which betray the hand 
of the master, we cannot help believing that Burns was 
either the original author, or that he altered and amended 
the original poem so much, that it became in a great mea- 
sure his own. 



1. 
SHOULD auld^ acquaintance be forgot, 

And never brought to min' V 
Should auld acquaintance be forgot, 

And days o' lang^ syne ? 

CHORUS. 

For auld lang syne^ my dear. 

For autd lajig syne^ 
TFe'll tak'^ a cup o' kindness yet^ 

For auld lang syne. 

■ 2. 
We twa* hae run about the braes,'^ 

And pu'd^ the gowans^ line ; 
But we've wander'd mony^a weary foot 
Sin" auld lang syne. 

For auld, ^c. 



1 Old. 


5 Two have. 


8 Mountain daisy. 


2 Mind. 


f) Hills. 


9 Many. 


3 Long since. 


7 Pull'd. 


10 Since. 


4 T^e. 







b o 



474 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

3. 
We twa hae paidl't^ V the burn,' 

Frae^ mornin' sun till dine : 
But seas between us braid"* hae roar'd, 
Sin auld lang syne. 

For aidd, ^c. 

4. 
And here's a hand, my trusty fiere,* 

And gie's® a hand o' thine ; 
And we'll tak a right guide^ wille-waught 

For auld lang syne. 

For auld, ^c. 

5. 
And surely ye'll be your pint-stovvp,' 

And surely I'll be mine ; 
And we'll tak a cup o' kindness yet. 

For auld lang syne. 

For auld, £^V. 



I Wadec!. 


4 Broad. 


2 Rivulet. 


5 Companion. 


3 From. 


G Give us. 



7 Good wiUul draught. 

8 Measure. 



SONG. 

1. 
THOU hast left me ever, Jamie, thou hast left me 

ever, 
Thou hast left me ever, Jamie, thou has left me ever, 
Aften hast thou vow'd that death, only should us 

sever. 
Now thou's left thy lass for ay' — I maun^ see thee 
never, Jamie. 

r II see thee never. 

2. 
Thou hast me forsken^ Jamie, thou hast me forsaken, 
Thou hast me forsaken, Jamie, thou hast me forsaken; 

1 Ever. 2 Must. 



ROBERT BURNS. 475 

Thou canst love anither^ jo, while my heart is break- 
ing: 

Soon my weary e'en^ I'll close — never mair' to wa- 
ken, Jamie. 

Ne^er mair to waken.^ 

1 Another sweetheart. 2 Eyes. 3 More. 

This is the whole of the song. — The Bard never proceeded farther. 



SONG. 

Tune — " Rothemurche." 

CHORUS. 

Fairest maid on Devon banks, 
Crystal Devon, winding Devon, 

Wilt thou lay that frown aside, 

And smile as thou wert wont to do. 

1. 

FULL well thou knowest I love thee dear, 
Couldst thou to malice lend an ear ! 
O did not love exclaim, " Forbear, 
'' Nor use a faithful lover, so." 

Fairest maid, ^c. 

2. 
Then come, thou fairest of the fair. 
Those wonted smiles, O let me share ; 
And by thy beauteous self I swear. 
No love but thine my heart shall know. 
Fairest maidy ^c. 



476 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 



SONG. 

1. 
THO' cruel fate should bid us part, 

As far's the pole and line ; 
Her dear idea round my heart 

Should tenderly entwine. 

2. 
Tho' mountains frown and deserts howl, 

And oceans roar between ; 
Yet, dearer than my deathless soul, 

I still would love my Jean. 



SONG. 

Tune — " Mrs. M'Leod of Raza's Strathspey."^ 

1. 

O RAGING fortune's witherin.^ blast 

Has laid my leaf full low ! O 
O raging fortune's withering blast 

Has laid my leaf full low ! O 
My stem was fair, my bud was green, 

My blossom sweet did blow ; O 
The dew fell fresh, the sun rose mild, 

And made my branches grow : O 
But luckless fortune's northern storms 

Laid a' my blossoms low, O 
But luckless fortunes northern storms 

Laid a' my blossoms low, O. 

• The tune consists of three parts, so that the above verses just goes 
through the whole air. 



ROBERT BURNS. Aff 



SONG. 

Tune. — " I am a man unmarried." 

This is the first song the author composed, for the history of 
which, see page 3, line 12, of this edition. 



1. 
O ONCE I lovM a bonny lass, 

Ay/ and I love her still, 
And whilst that honor warms my breast 
ni love my handsome Nell. 

Fallal de ral^ ^c. 

2. 
As bonnie lasses I hae^ seen, 

And mony^ full as bravv," 
But for a modest gracefu' mein 

The like I never saw. 

3. 
A bonnie lass I will confess, 

Is pleasant to the e'e,* 
But without some better quahties 

She's no^ a lass for me. 

4. 

But Nelly's looks are blythe and sweet, 

And what is best of a', 
Her reputation is complete, 

And fair without a flaw. 

5. 
She dresses ay sae clean and neat, 

Both decent and genteel : 
And then there's something in her gait, 

Gars' ony dress look weel.* 



1 Always. 


4 Handsome. 


7 Makes any. 


2 Have. 


5 Eye. 


8 Well, 


;} Many. 


6 Not. 





478 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

6. 
A gaudy dress and gentle air 

May slightly touch the heart, 
But it's innocence and modesty 

That polishes the dart. 

7. 
'Tis this in Nelly pleases me, 

'Tis this enchants my soul ; 
For absolutely in my breast 

She reigns without controuL 



MY BONNIE MARY. 

1. 

GO fetch to me a pint o' wine, 

An fill it in a silver tassie ;^ 
That I may drink, before I go, 

A service to my bonnie lassie : 
The boat rocks at the pier o' Leith ; 

Fu' loud the wind blaws^ frae the ferry, 
The ship rides by the Berwick-law,* 

And I maun^ lea'e my bonnie Mary. 

2. 
The trumpets sound, the banners fly. 

The glittering spears are ranked ready : 
The shouts o' war are heard afar. 

The battle closes thick and bloody : 
But it's not the roar o' sea or shore, 

Wad'* make me langer* wish to tarry ; 
Nor shouts o' war that's heard afar, 

It's leaving thee, my bonnie Mary. 

1 Cup. 3 Must leave. 5 Longer. 

2 Blows from. 4 Would. 

* A beautiful conical hill called the N. Berwick Law, near the mouth of 
the Firth of Forth. 



ROBERT BURNS. 479 



SONG. — Extempore. 

1. 

WHY the deuce should I repine, 
And be an ill foreboder ; 

I'm twenty three, and five feet nine, 
ni go and be a sodger.^ 

2. 

1 gat^ some gear^ wi' meikle"* care, 
I held it weep thegither :, 

But now its gane,^ and something mair,' 
ni go and be a sodger. 

1 Soldier. 4 Much. 6 Gone. 

2 Got. 5 Well together. 7 More. 
.-^ Wealth. 



FRAGMENT. 

Tune — " Donald Blue." 

1. 
O LEAVE novels, ye Mauchline belles, 

Ye're safer at your spinning-wheel ; 
Such witching books, are baited hooks, 
For rakish rooks like Kob Mossgiel. 
Sing till lal lay^ ^c. 

2. 
Your fine Tom Jones and Grandisonsy 

They make your youthful fancies reel, 
They heat your brains, and fire your veins. 

And then you're prey for Rob Mossgiel. 

3. 
Beware a tongue that's smoothly hung ; 
A heart that warmly seems to feel ; 



480 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

That feeling heart but acts a part, 
^Tis rakish art in Rob Mossgiel. 

4. 
The frank address, the soft caress, 

Are worse than poisoned darts of steel, 
The frank address and politesse, 

Are all finesse in Rob Mossgiel. 



FRAGMENT. 

Mr — " Hiighie Graham." 

1. 
O WERE my love yon lilack fair, 

Wi' purple blossoms to the spring : 
And I, a bird to shelter there, 

When wearied on my little wing. 

2. 
How I wad mourn, when it was torn 

By autumn wild, and winter rude ! 
But I wad sing on wanton wing, 

When youthfu' May its bloom renewM. 



SONG. 

Tune — " Cauld kail in Aberdeen.'* 

1. 

HOW lang^ and dreary is the night. 
When I am frae^ my dearie ! 

I restless lie frae e'en to morn, 
Though I were ne'er sae' weary. 

1 Long. 2 From. 3 So, 



ROBERT BURNS. 4$1 

CHORUS. 

For oh, her lanely^ nights are lang : 
And oh, her dreams are eerie :^ 

And oh, her widow'' d heart is sair^^ 
That's absent frae her dearie, 

2. 
When I think on the lightsome days 

I spent wi' thee, my dearie ; 
And now what seas between us roar, 
How can I be but eerie. 

For ohy ^c. 

3. 
How slow ye move, ye heavy hours^ 

The joyless day how dreary : 
It was na^ sae, ye glinted* by, 
When I was wi' my dearie. 

For oh, i^c. 



1 Lonely. 3 Sore. 5 Passed suddejnlf 

2 Frightful. 4 Not so. 



BLYTHE WAS SHE. 

These verses were composed while the Author stayed at 
Ochtertyre, with Sir William Murray. The Lady, who 
was also at Ochtertyre at the same time, was the well- 
known toast, Miss Euphemia Murray, of Lentrose, who 
was called, and very justly, the flower of Strathmore. 



CHORUS. 

Blythe, blythe and merry was she, 
Blythe was she but and ben : 

Blythe by the banks of Ern, 
And blythe in Glenturet glen. 
3 p 



483 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

1. 

BY Oiightertyre grows the aik/ 

On Yarrow banks, the birken^ shaw ; 

But Phemie u as a bonnier lass 
Than braes^ o' Yarrow ever saw, 

Blythe^ ^c. 

2. 

Her looks were like a flower in May, 
Her smile was like a simmer* morn ; 

She tripped by the banks of Ern, 
As light's a bird upon a thorn. 
Ely the, ^c. 

3. 

Her bonnie face it was as meek 

As ony* lamb upon a lee ; 
The evening sun was ne'er sae* sweet, 

As was the blink o' Phemie's e'e.' 
Blythe, ^c. 

4. 
The Highland hills Pve wanderM wide, 

And o'er the Lowlands I hae* been ; 
But Phemie was the blythest lass, 

That ever trode the dewy green, 

Blythe, Wc. 

1 Oak. 4 Summer. 7 Eye. 

2 Birchen. 5 Anj. 8 Have, 

3 Banks. G So. 



TIBBIE. 

Tune — " Invercald's Reel." 

CHORUS. 

O Tibbie, I hae^ seen the day 
Ye would nae^ been sae^ shy : 

1 Have. 2 Not. 3 So. 



ROBERT BURNS. 485 

For laik' o' ^ear ye lightly me, 
But trowth,^ I care na^ by. 

1. 
YESTREEN* I met you on the moor, 
Ye spak* na, but gaecP by like stoure ;^ 
Ye p^eck^ at me because Pm poor, 
But fient a hair care I. 

O Tibbie y I hae, Wc, 

2. 
I doubt na, lass, but ye may think, 
Because ye hae the name o' clink,® 
That ye can please me at a wink, 
Whene'er ye like to try. 

O Tibbicy I hae, ^c. 

3. 
But sorrow tak" him that's sae mean, 
Altho' his pouch^* o' coin were clean, 
Wha''* follows ony" saucy quean 
That looks sae proud and high. 
O Tibbie, 1 hae, ^c, 

4. 
Altho' a lad were e'er sae smart, 
If that he want the yellow dirt, 
Ye'll cast your head anither^* airt, 
And answer him fu" dry. 

O Tibbie, I hae, ^c. 

5. 
But if he hae the name o' gear, 
Ye'll fasten to him like a brier, 
Tho' hardly he, for sense or lear,'^ 
Be better than the kye." 

O Tibbie, I hae, £s?c. 

1 Lack of wealth. 7 Dust in motion. 13 Any. 

2 In truth. 8 Gibe. 14 Another direction. 

3 Not. 9 Money. 15 Full. 

4 Lastnight. 10 Take. 16 Learning. 

5 Spoke not. 11 Pocket. 17 Cows. 

6 Went. i2 Who. 



484 tHE POETICAL WORKS OF 

6. 

But, Tibbie, lass tak my advice. 
Your daddies gear maks^ you sae nice , 
The deil a ane^ wad spier your price, 
Were ye as poor as I. 

O Tibbie^ I hae^ ^c. 

7. 
There lives a lass in yonder park, 
I would nae sjie^ her under sark,"* 
For thee wi' a' thy thousan' mark ; 
Ye need nae look sae hi^h. 

Tibbie^ I hae, ^c. 

1 Makes. ,3 Give. 4 Shift. 

2 One would ask. 



LASSIE Wr THE LINT- WHITE LOCKS. 

Tune — " Rothmurche's Rant." 
CHORUS. 

Lassie wi' the lint-white locks, 
Bonnie lassie, artless lassie, 

Wilt thou wi' me tent^ the flocks, 
Wilt thou be my dearie O. 

1. 

NOW nature cleeds^ the flowery lea, 
And a' is young and sweet like thee ; 

wilt thou bhare its joys vvi* me. 
And say thou'lt be my dearie O. 

'Lassie zvi\ ^c. 

2. 
And when the welcome simmers-shower 
Has cheer'd ilk" drooping little flower. 
We'll to the breathing woodbine bower, 
At sultry noon, my dearie O. 
Lassie xvi\ £s?c. 

1 Tend. t Surtmer. 4 Each. 
■2 Clothes. 



ROBERT BURNS. 485 

3. 
When Cynthia lights, wi' silver ray, 
The weary shearer's hamevvard^ way ; 
Thro' yellow waving fields we'll stray, 
And talk o' love, my dearie O. 
Lassie wi^f ^c, 

4. 
And. when the howling wintry blast 
Disturbs my lassie's midnight rest ; 
Enclasped to my faithfu' breast, 
Fll comfort thee, my dearie O. 
Lassie wi^^ ^c. 

• Homeward. 



O, FOR ANE AND TWENTY TAM ! 

Tune — " The Mandiewort." 

An' O, for ane^ and twenty, Tarn ! 

An' hey, sweet ane and twenty, Tarn ! 
I'll learn my kin a ratdin' sang,^ 

An'^ I saw ane and twenty. Tarn. 

1. 
THEY snool"* me sair, and hand* me down, 

And gar* me look like bluntie,^ Tarn ; 
But three short years will soon wheel roun', 
And then comes ane and twenty. Tarn. 
An^ 0,Jbr ane, is'c. 

2. 
A gleib' o' Ian, a claut^ o' gear. 
Was left me by my auntie, Tarn ; 



7 Snivelling. 

8 GUbeofland. 

^ Gathering of wealth. 



,1 One. 


4 Oppress me sore, 


2 Song. 


5 Hold. 


3 If. 


6 Make, 



486 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

At kith' or kin I need na^ spier, 
An' I saw ane and twenty, Tarn. 
An^ 0,Jbr ane, £s?c. 

3. 
They'll hae' me wed a wealthy coof,* 

Tho' 1 mysel* hae plenty, Tarn ; 
But hear'st thou, laddie, there's my loof,^ 
I'm thine at ane and twenty, Tarn ! 
An? O, for ane, Cs?c. 

1 Friend. 3 Hhvc. 5 Myself. 

2 Not ask. 4 Fool. 6 Hand. 



SONG. 

This beautiful Song, is the last finished production of the 
lamented Burns. 



CHORUS. 

Here's a health to ane^ I lo'e dear, 
Here's a health to ane I lo'e dear ; 
Thou art sweet as the smile when fond lovers 

meet, 
And soft as their parting tear — Jessy ! 

1. 
ALTHOUGH thou maun^ never be mine, 

Although even hope is denied ; 
'Tis sweeter for the despairing 

Than aught in the world beside — Jessy ! 
Here's a health, ts'c. 

2. 
I mourn thro' the gay, gaudy day, 
As, hopeless, I muse on thy charms ; 

1 One I love. 2 Must. 



ROBERT BURNS. 487 

But welcome the dream o' sweet slumber, 
For then I am lockt in thy arms — Jessy ! 
Here's a healthy ^g. 

3. 
I guess by the dear angel smile, 

I guess by the love rolling e'e \^ 
But why urge the tender confession 

'Gainst fortune's fell cruel decree — Jessy ! 
Here^s a healthy ^c. 

1 Eye. 



I LOVE MY JEAN. 

Tune — " Miss Admiral Gordon's Strathspey.' 

1. 

OF a' the airts^ the wind can blaw,^ 

I dearly like the west, 
For there the bonnie lassie lives, 

The lassie I lo'e^ best : 
There wild-woods grow, and rivers row,** 

And mony* a hill between ; 
But day and night my fancy's flight 

Is ever wi' my Jean. 

2. 
I see her in the dewy flowers, 

I see her sweet and fair ; 
I hear her in the tunefu' birds, 

I hear her charm the air : 
There's not a bonnie flower that springs, 

By fountain, shaw, or green, 
There's not a bonnie bird that sings, 

But minds me o' my Jean. 

1 Points. 3 Love. 5 MaDv 

2 Blow. 4 Roll. 



488 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

3. 
Upon the banks of flowing Clyde,* 

The lasses busk them braw/ 
But when their best they hae'^ put on, 

My Jennie dings' them a' ; 
In hamely"* weeds she far exceeds, 

The fairest of the town ; 
Baith^ sage and gay confess it sae,*" 

Tho' dress'd in rustic gown. 

4. 
The garflesome lamb that sucks the dam, 

Mair^ harmless canna* be, 
She has nae^ faut (if sic" we ca't) 

Except her love for me : 
The sparkling dew, of clearest hue, 

Is like her shining e'en;" 
In shape and air wha^^ can compare 

Wi' my sweet lovely Jean. 

5. 
O blaw ye westlin" winds, blaw saft," 

Amang" the leafy trees ; 
Wi' gentle breath frae*^ muir an' dale, 

Bring hame the laden bees : 
And bring the lassie back to me, 

That's ay" sae neat an' clean ; 
Ae^* blink o' her would banish care, 

Sae charming is my Jean. 

What sighs and vows amang the knowes,'" 

Hae pass'd between us twa ;^° 
How fain to meet, how wae^^ to p£lrt, 

That day she gaed^^ awa' : 

1 Htindsome. 9 No fault. 16 From. 

2 Have. 10 Such we call it. 17 Always. 

3 Excels. 11 Ky<^. 18 One. 

4 Homely. 1'2 VVho. 19 Hillocks. 

5 Both. 13 Western. 20 Two. 

6 So. 14 Soft. 21 S'lrry. 

7 More. 15 Among. 22 Weut away. 

8 Cannot. 

* The two first stanzas only ;ire by Burns. — The rest are considered beau- 
tiful and may not be wnacceptuble to tlie reader. 



ROBERT BURNS. 489 

The powers aboon^ can only ken,^ 

To whom the heart is seen ; 
That nane^ can be sae dear to me, 

As my sweet lovely Jean. 

1 Above. 2 Kuow. 3 None. 



SONG. 



7\me — " Bonnie Dundee." 

1. 

IN Mauchline there dwells six proper young Belles, 
The pride of the place and its neighbourhood a", 

Their carriage and dress, a stranger would guess, 
In Lon'on or Paris they'd gotten it a' : 

2. 

Miss Miller' is fine, Miss MarklancPs divine, 

Miss Smith she has wit, and Miss Betty is braw ; 

There's beautv and fortune to get wi' Miss Moi'ton^ 
But Armourh* the jewel for me o' thein a'. 

* Afterwards Mrs, Burns. 



THE CHEVALIER'S LAMENT.Ji. 

Burns composed the first stanza of this Song, as he was 
riding through a track of melancholy, joyless moors, be- 
tween Galloway and Ayrshire ; and at the request of gen- 
tlemen afterwards annexed the other stanzas, in the Jaco- 
bitical style. It is supposed to be sung after the fatal 
field of CuUoden, by the unfortunate Charles, whose pre- 
tensions to the throne of England, were there utterly de- 
feated, and his army annihilated. 

3q. 



490 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

1. 

THE small birds rejoice in the p;reen leaves returning, 
The murmuring streamlet winds clear thro' the vale; 
The hawthorn trees blow in the dews of the morning. 
And wild scattered cowslips bedeck the green dale ; 

2. 

But w hat can give pleasure, or what can seem fair, 
While the linj^ering moments are numbered by care ? 
No fiow'rs 5Jayl^ springing, nor birds sweetly singing, 
Can soothe the sad bosom of joyless despair. 

3. 
The deed that T dared, could it merit their malice, 
A king £)nd a father to place on his throne ? 
His right are these hills, and his right are these vallies. 
Where the v\ ild beasts find shelter, but I can find 
none. 

4. 
But 'tis not my sufferings thus wretched, forlorn, 
My brave gallant friends, 'tis your ruin I mourn 5 
Your deeds proved so loyal, in hot bloody trial, 
Alas ! can 1 make you no sweeter return ! 



DUNCAN GRAY.* 

1. 
DUNCAN GRAY cam» here to woo, 
**•♦ Ha^ ha, the wooing o't, 

On blythe yule^ night when we were fu'^ 
Ha^ hay the ivooing o^t. 

1 Came. '2 Chiistriias. 3 Bousy. 

* Dr. Rlacklock of Edinburgh, inforniprl Burns that he had often heart) 
tlie tradition that file Air of Ihincan Gray, was composed by a carman of 
Glasgow. Burns himsij!' tiiouglii " it was that kind of iiijlit-horse gallop of an 
air that precluded sentiment;'' that "the ludicions was its ruling; feature ;" 
and accoi'dingly in writing the above verses for it, he has kept this idea stea- 
dily in view. For broad humour, the song iscertaitdy unequalled in the Scot- 
tish language ; and it was with great justict,/he Hon. A. Erskine observed 
in a letter to Burns, that " spak o' lowpia O'er a linn," was a line of itself that 
should make him immortal. 



ROBERT BURNS. 491 

Maggie coost» her head fu''' hipjh, 
Look'd asklent^" and unco^ skeigh, 
Gart* poor Duncan stand abiegh f 
Ha, ha, the wooing oH. 

2. 
Duncan fleech'd/ and Duncan pray'd ; 

Ha, ha, ^c. 
Meg was deaf as Ailsa Craig,^' 

Ha, ha, ^c. 
Duncan sigh'd baith* out and in, 
Grat^ his een baith bleer't and blin', 
Spak'° o' low pin o'er a linn ; 

Ha, ha, ^c. 

3. 
Time and chance are but a tide, 

Ha, ha, ^c. 
Slighted love is sair" to bide, 

Ha, ha, ^c. 
Shall I, like a fool, quoth he, 
For a haughty hizzie^^ die ? 
She may gae^^ to — France for me ! 

Ha, ha, £s?c. 

4. 
How it comes, let doctors tell, 

Ha, ha, £s?<7. 
Meg grew sick — as he grew well, 

Ha, ha, ^c. 
Something in her bosom wrings, 
Fer relief a sigh she brings : 
And O, her een," they spak'* sic things ! 

Ha, ha, ^c. 

1 Did cast. 7 Wheedled. 11 Sore to be»Y. 

2 Full. 8 Both. 12 Hussy. 

3 A squint. 9 Wept his eyps both 13 Go. 

4 Vpry skittish, bl^ered and blind. 14 Eyes. 

5 MiMe. 10 Threatened to leap 15 Spoke such- 

6 Aloof. over a cataract. 

• A well known J-ock in the frith of Clyde. 



492 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

5. 
Duncan was a lad o' grace, 

Ha^ ha, ^c. 
Maggie's was a piteous case, 

Duncan could na^ be her death, 
Swelling pity smoor'd^ his wrath ; 
Now they're crouse^ and canty baith. 
Ha^ ha, the wooing oH. 

1 Not. 2 Smothered. 3 Cheerful and meny. 



SONG. 

Tune — " Duncan Gray.'* 

1. 
LET not woman e'er complain, 

Of inconstancy in love ; 
Let not woman e'er complain. 

Fickle man is apt to rove ; 

2. 
Look abroad through nature's range, 

Nature's mighty law is change ; 
Ladies would it not be strange, 

Man should then a monster prove ? 

?>. 
Mark the winds, and mark the skies ; 

Ocean's ebb, and ocean's flow ; 
Sun and moon but set to rise, 

Round and round the seasons go ; 

4. 
Why then ask of silly man, 

To oppose great nature's plan ? 
We'll be constant while we can — 

You can be no more you know. 



ROBERT BURNS. 493 

SONG. 

Tune. — " If he be a Butcher neat and trim." 

This youthful production of Burns, was recovered by Mr. 
Cromek, from the oral communication of a lady, then re- 
siding at Glasgow, whom the Bard in early life aftection- 
ately loved. 



1. 

ON Cessnock banks there lives a lass, 
Could I describe her shape and mien j 

The graces of her vveelfarM^ face, 
And the glancin' o' her sparklin' een.^ 

2. 
She's fresher than the morning dawn 

When rising Phoebus first is seen, 
When dew drops, twinkle o'er the lawn , 

An' she's twa^ glancin' sparklin' een. 

2. 

She's stately like yon youthful ash. 

That grows the cowslip braes'* between, 

And shoots its head above each bush ; 
An' she's twa glancin' sparklin' een. 

3. 
She's spotless as the flow'ring thorn 

With flow'rs so white and leaves so green, 
When purest in the dewy morn ; 

An' she's twa glancin' sparklin' een. 

5. 
Her looks are like the sportive lamb, 

When flow'ry May adorns the scene ; 
That wantons round its bleating dam ; 

An' she's twa glancin' sparklin' een. 

I Handsome, 3 Two. 

X 2 Eyes. 4 Hills. 



494 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

6. 
Her hair is like the curling mist 

That shades the mountain side at e'en, 
When flou'rreviving rains are past ; 

An' she's twa glancin' sparklin' een. 

7. 
Her forehead's like the shovv'ry bow, 

When shining sunbeams intervene, 
And gild the distant mountains brow ; 

An' she's twa glancin' sparklin' een. 

8. 
Her voice is like the ev'ning thrush, 

That sings in Cessnock banks unseen, 
While his mate sits nestling in the bush ; 

An' she's twa glancin' sparklin' een. 

9. 
Her lips are like the cherries ripe. 

That sunny walls from boreas screen. 
They tempt the taste and charm the sight ; 

An' she's twa glancin' sparklin' een. 

10. 
Her teeth are like a flock of sheep. 

With fleeces newly washen^ clean> 
That slowly mount the rising steep ; 

An' she's twa glancin' sparklin' een. 

11. 

Her breath is like the fragrant breeze. 
That gently stirs the blossom'd bean, 

When Phoebus sinks behind the seas ; 
An' she's tv\a glancin' sparklin' een. 

12. 
But it's not her air, her form, her face, 

Tho' matching beauty's fabled queen, 
But the mind, that shines in ev'ry grace. 

And chiefly in her sparklin' een. 

1 Washed. 



ROBERT BORNS. 495 

GREEN GROW THE RASHES, 0. 

CHORUS. 

Green grow the rashes, O, 

Green grow the rashes, O, 
The sweetest hours that e'er I spent, 

Were spent among the lasses, O. 

1. 
THERE'S nought but care on ev'ry han% 

In ev'ry hour that passes, O ; 
What signifies the life o' man, 
An' 'twere na^ for the lasses, O. 

Grefen^grow the rashes^ 0, ^c. 
2. 
The warly^ race may riches chase, 
An' riches still may fly them, O ; 
An' tho' at last they catch them fast, 
Their hearts can ne'er enjoy them, O. 

Green grow the rashes, 0, ^c. 
3. 
But gie^ me a canny** hour at een, 

My arms about my dearie, O ; 
An' warly cares, an' warly men, 
May a' gae* tapsalteerie, O ! 

Green grow the rashes^ O, Csrc 

4. 
For you sae^ douse, ye sneer at this, 

Ye're nought but senseless asses, Q ; 
The wisest man the warl' e'er saw, 
He dearly lov'd the lasses, O ! 

Green grow the rashes^ 0, &?c. 
5. 
Auld Nature swears, the lovely dears, 

Her noblest work she classes, O ; 
Her prentice han' she try'd on man. 
An' then she made the lasses, O ! 

Green grow the rashes, O, &fc. 

1 Not. 3 Give. 5 Go to<)sy turvy. 

2 Worldiv, 4 Pleasanf. 6 So sedate. 



496 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 



SONG. 

Tune — " This is no my ain house." 



CHORUS. 

O this is no^ my ain^ lassie, 
Fair tho' the lassie be ; 

O vveeP ken I my ain lassie 
Kind love is in her e'e."* 



1. 

I SEE a form, I see a face, 
Ye vveel may wi' the fairest place*: 
It wants to me, the witching grace, 
The kind love that's in her e'e. 

this is no, zd'c. 

2. 
She's bonnie, blooming, straight and tall, 
And lang has had my heart in thrall ; 
And ay* it charms my very saul,^ 
The kind love that's in her e'e. 
this is nOy ^c. 

3. 
A thief sae' pawkie is my Jean, 
To steal a blink by a' unseen ; 
But glcLi:^ as light are lover's een,^ 
Wlifn kind love is in the e'e. 
this is nOj ^c. 

4. 
It may escape the courtly sparks. 
It may escape the learned clerks ; 
But vveel the watching lover marks. 
The kind love that's in her e'e. 
O this is no, ^c. 

1 Not. 4 Eye. 7 So sly. 

2 Own. 5 Always. 8 Quick ofperceptiou. 

3 Well 1 know. 6 Soul. 9 Eves. 



ROBERT BURNS. 49? 



ADDRESSED TO A YOUNG LADY. 

1. 

OH wert thou in the cauld^ blast, 

On yonder lea, on yonder lea ; 
My plaidie to the angry art,^ 

I'd shelter thee, Pd shelter thee : 
Or did misfortune's bitter storms 

Around thee blavv,^ around thee blaw, 
Thy bield"* should be my bosom, 

To share it a', to share it a'. 

2. 
Or were I in the wildest waste, 

Sae^ black and bare, sae black and bare, 
The desert were a paradise, 

If thoi! wert there, if thou wert there. 
Or were I monarch o' the globe, 

Wi' thee to reign, wi' thee to reign ; 
The brightest jewel in my crown, 

Wad^ be my queen, wad be my queen. 

1 Cold. 3 Blow. 5 So. 

2 Point. 4 Shelter. 6 Would. 



SONG. 

Tune — " Let me in this ae night." 

I. 
O LASSIE, art thou sleeping yet, 
Or art thou wakin, I would wit, 
For love has bound me hand and fit,^ 
And I would fain be in, jo,^ 

1 Foot. 2 Sweetheart. 

3 R 



498 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

CHORUS. 

let me in this ae'^ nighty 
This ae, ae^ ae nighty 

For pity's sake this ae night, 
O rise and let me in^jo. 

2. 
Thou hear'st the winter wind and weet," 
Nae' star bhnks through the driving sleet ; 
Tak" pity on my weary feet, 

And shield me frae® the rain, jo. 
O let 7?ie in, £jr. 

3. 
The bitter blast that round me blaws*^ 
Unheeded howls, unheeded fa's i' 
The cauldness^ o' thy heart's the cause 
Of a' my grief and pain, jo. 
let me in, ^c. 

1 One. 4 Take. 7 Falls. 

2 Wet. 5 From. 8 Coldness of. 

3 No. 6 Blows. 



HER ANSWER. 

1. 
O TELL na me o' wind and rain, 
Upbraid na me wi' cauld disdain, 
Gae^ back the gate ye cam^ again, 
I winna^ let you in, jo. 

CHORUS. 

/ tell you noxv this ae night, 
This ae, ae, ae night, 

Andance^fora' this ae night, 
Iwinna let you in, jo. 

1 Go. 3 Will not. 

2 Came. 4 Once. 



ROBERT BURNS. 499 

2. 
The snellesti blast, at mirkest* hours, 
That round the pathless wand'rer pours, 
Is nocht^ to what poor she endures. 
That's trusted faithless man, jo. 
/ tell you noiVf ^c, 

3. 
The sweetest flower that deck'd the mead, 
Now trodden like the vilest weed : 
Let simple maid the lesson read, 
The weird'* may be her ain, jo. 

/ tell you now, ^e. 

4. 
The bird that charm'd his summer-day, 
Is now the cruel fowler's prey ; 
Let witless, trusting woman say, 
How aft her fate's the same, jo. 

/ tell you no7Vf &?r. 

I Sharpest. 3 Nothing. 5 Ott. 

'2 Darkest. i P'ate. 



WHA IS THAT AT MY BOWER DOOR. 

Tune — " Lass an I come near thee." 

1. 
WHA^ is that at my bower door ? 

O wha is it but Findlay ; 
Then gae^ your gate^ ye'se"* nae be here ! 

Indeed maun* I, quo' Findlay. 
What maks^ ye sae'' like a thief? 

O come and see, quo' Findlay ; 
Before the morn ye'll work mischief; 

Indeed will I, quo' Findlay. 



1 Who. 


4 You shall not. 


6 Makes, 


2 Go. 


5 Must. 


7 So. 


3 Way. 







500 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

2. 
Gif * I rise and let you in ? 

Let nie in, quo' Findlay ; 
Ye'U keep me waukin^ \vi' your din ; 

Indeed will I, quo' Findlay. 
In my bower if ye should stay ? 

Let me stay, quo' Findlay ; 
I fear ye'll bide' till break o' day ; 

Indeed will I, quo' Findlay. 

3. 

Here this night if ye remain, 

I'll remain quo' Findlay ; 
I dread ye'll learn the gate again ; 

Indeed will I, quo' Findlay; 
What may pass within this bower, 

Let it pass, quo' Findlay ; 
Ye maun conceal 'till your last hour ; 

Indeed will I quo' Findlay ! 

i If. 2 Waking. 3 Continue^ 



MY MARY'S FACE. 

I. 

MY Mary's face, my Mary's form, 
The frost of hermit age might warm : 
My Mary's worth, my Mary's mind. 
Might charm the first of human kind, 
I love my Mary's angel air. 
Her face so truly heavenly fair, 
Her native grace so void of art ; 
But I adore my Mary's heart. ' 

2. 
The lily's hue, the rose's dye, 
The kindling lustre of an eye — 
Who but owns their magic sway ? 
Who but knows they all decay ? 



ROBERT BURNS. 501 



The tender thrill, the pitying tear, 
The gen'rous purpose, nobly dear, 
The gentle look that rage disarms,- 
These are all immortal charms ! 



SONG. 



1. 

NAE^ gentle dames, tho' e'er sae^ fair,* 
Shall ever be my muse's care ; 
Their titles a' are empty show ; 
Gie' me my Highland lassie, O. 

CHORUS. 

J'Fithin the glen sae hushy^ O, 
Abooif the plain sae rushy ^ 0, 
/ set me down xvP right goodwill, 
To sing my Highland lassie, O. 

2. 
Oh ! were yon hills and vallies mine I 
Yon palace and yon gardens fine ! 
The world then the love should know, 
I bear my Highland lassie, O. 

JFithin the glen, ^c. 

3. 
But fickle fortune frowns on me, 
And I maun* cross the raging sea : 
But, while my crimson currents flow, 
I'll love my Highland lassie, O. 

IVithhi the glen, ^c. 

4. 
Altho' thro' foreign climes I range, 
I know her heart will never change, 

1 No. 3 Give. 5 Must. 

2 So. 4 Above. 

• Gentle, is used htre in opposition to simple, m the Scottish and old Eng 
iish sense of the word. Nae gentle dames — No high-blooded dames. 



502 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

For her bosom burns with honour's glow, 
My faithful Highland lassie, O. 

Within the gleuy ^c. 

5. 
For her I'll dare the billow's roar, 
For her I'll trace a distant shore, 
That Indian wealth may lustre throw. 
Around my Highland lassie, O. 

Within the glen, ^c. 

6. 
She has my heart, she has my hand, 
By sacred truth and honour^s band ! 
'Till the mortal stroke shall lay me low, 
I'm thine my Highland lassie, O. 

Farewell the glen sae bushy ^ 0! 
Farewell the plain sae rushy ^ / 
To other lands I must go, 
To sing tny Highland lassie. Of* 

* This is an early production, and seems to have been written on Highland 
Marj. 



DAINTY DAVIE. 

1. 

NOW rosy May comes in wi' flowers. 
To deck her gay, green spreading bowers, 
And now comes in my happy hours, 
To wander wi' my Davie. 

CHORUS. 

Meet me on the warlock^ knowe. 
Dainty Davie, dainty Davie, 

There Pll spend the day wi' you, 
My ain dear dainty Davie. 

1 A wizard. 



ROBERT BURNS. 50S 

2. 
The crystal waters round us fa'/ 
The merry birds are lovers a' 
The scented breezes round us blavv,^ 
A wandering wi' my Davie. 
Aleet file, £s?c. 

3. 
When purple morning starts the hare, 
To steal upon her early fare, 
Then thro' the dews I will repair, 
To meet my faithfu' Davie. 
jMeet me, ^c. 

4. 
When day, expiring in the west, 
The curtain draws o' nature's rest, 
I flee to his arms I loe^ best, 
And that's my ain^ dear Davie. 
Meet me, fc?c. 

1 Fall. 3 Lore. 

1 Blo*^. 4 Own. 



SONG. 

Tune — " Morag." 

1. 

O WHA' is she that lo'es' me, 
And has my heart a keeping ? 

O sweet is she that lo'es me, 
As dews o' summer weeping, 
In tears the rose buds steeping. 

CHORUS. 

that's the lassie o' my heart. 
My lassie ever dearer, 

I Who. 2 Loves. 



2* 



W 



504 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

O that^s the queen o' woman kind^ 
And ne'er a ane^ to peer her. 

2. 
If thou shalt meet a lassie, 

In grace and beauty charming, 
That e'en thy chosen lassie, 

Ere while thy breast sae^ warming, 
And ne'er sic^ powers alarming. 
thafs ^c. 

3. 
If thou hadst heard her talking. 
And thy attentions plighted, 
That ilka^ body talking, 
But her by thee is slighted ; 
And thou art all delighted. 
O that^s, ^c. 

4. 
If thou hast met this fair one ; 

When frae* her, thou hast parted, 
If ev'ry other fair one. 

But her thou hast deserted. 
And thou art broken hearted. — 
O thafs, zd'c. 

1 One. 3 Such. 5 From. 

2 So. 4 Everj. 



ON CHLORIS BEING ILL. 

Tkine — " Ay wakin 0.'* 

CHORUS. 

Long, long the night. 

Heavy comes the morrow, 

While my soul's delight, 
Is on her bed of sorrow. 



ROBERT BURNS. 505 

1- 

CAN I cease to care ? 

Can I cease to languish ? 
While my darling fair 

Is on the couch of anguish ? 
Long, ^G. 

2. 
Every hope is fled, 

Every fear is terror; 
Slumber e'en I dread, 
Every dream is horror. 
Longy yc, 

3. 
Hear me, Pow'rs divine ! 
Oh ! in pity hear me ! 
Take aught else of mine. 
But my Chloris spare me ! 
Longy ^c. 



HARK THE MAVIS, §c. 

1. 
HARK ! the mavis" evening sang^ 
Sounding Clouden's* woods amang ;^ 
Then a faulding'* let us gang,* 
My bonnie dearie. 

CHORUS. 

Ca'^ the ewes to the knowes^ 
Ca^ them where the heather^ groxvsj 
Ca' them where the burnie^ rowsy 
My bonnie, dearie, 

1 Thrush. 4 Folding. 7 Hills. 

2 Song. 5 Go. 8 Hestth. 

3 Among. 6 Drive. 9 Rivulet. 

* The river CludoD, or Clouden, a tributary stream to the Ni^h. 

3 s 



506 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

2. 
We'll gae* down by Clouden-side, 
Through the hazePs spreading wide 
O'er the vaves, that sweetly glide, 
To the moon sae^ clearly. 

Ca^ the eweSy ^c. 

3. 

Yonder Clouden's silent towers, 
Where at moon-shine mid-night hours, 
O'er the dewy bending flowers, 
Fairies dance sae cheery. 

Ca' the eweSj ^e, 

4. 
Ghaist^ nor bogle shalt thou fear, 
Thou'rt to love and heaven sae dear, 
Nought of ill may come thee near, 
My bonnie dearie. 

Ca' the eweSy <s'c. 

5. 
Fair and lovely as thou art, 
Thou hast stown* my very heart, 
I can die,— but canna^ part, 
My bonnie dearie. 

Ca^ the ewes, ^c, 

1 Go. 3 Gliost or hobgoblin. 5 Caanojti, 

2 So. 4 Stolen. 



ON A BANK OF FLOWERS, ^c. 

1. 

ON a bank of flowers, in a summer day, 

For summer lightly drest, 
The youthful blooming Nelly lay. 

With love and sleep opprest.; 



ROBERT BURNS, 507 

When Willie, wand'ring through the wood, 
Who for her favour oft had sued ; 
He gaz'd, he vvish'd, he fear'd, he blushM, 
And trembled where he stood. 

2. 
Her closed eyes, like weapons sheath'd. 

Were sealM in soft repose ; 
Her lips, still as she fragrant breath'd, 

It richer dy'd the rose. 
The springing lilies sweetly prest. 
Wild, wanton kiss'd her rival breast ; 
He gaz'd, he wish'd, he fear'd, he blush'd, 

His bosom ill at rest. 

3. 
Her robes, light waving in the breeze, 

Her tender limbs embrace; 
Her lovely form, her native ease, 

All harmony and grace : 
Tumultuous tides his pulses roll, 
A faltering ardent kiss he stole ; 
He gaz'd, hevvish'd, he fear'd, he blush'd, 

And sigh'd' his very soul. 

4. 
As flies the partridge from the brake 

On fear-inspired wings : 
So Nelly, starting, half awake, 

Away affrighted springs ; 
But Willie foUow'd, — as he should, 
He overtook her in the wood ; 
He vow'd, he pray'd, he found the maid 

Forgiving all, and good. 



508 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

BONNIE LASSIE. 

Mr~" The Birks of Abergeldie." 

CHORUS 

BONNIE lassie, will ye go. 

Will ye s^o, will ye go, 
Bonnie lassie will ye go 

To the birks^ of Aberfeldy? 

1. 

Now simmer^ blinks on flow'ry braes,^ 
And o'er the crystal streamlet plays ; 
Come, let us spend the lightsome days 
In the birks of Aberfeldy. 

Bomiie lassie^ £s?c. 
2. 
The little birdies blythely sing. 
While o'er their heads the hazels hingy 
Or lightly flit on wanton wing 
In the birks of Aberfeldy. 

Bonnie lassie, ^c. 

3. 
The braes ascend like lofty wa's,^ 
The foaming stream deep roaring fa's* 
O'erhung wi' fragrant spreading shaws,® 
The birks of Aberfeldy. 

Bonnie lassie, ^c. 
4. 
The hoary cliffs are crown'd wi' flowers, 
White o'er the linns' the burnie* pours, 
And, rising, weets^ wi' misty showers 
The birks of Aberfeldy. 

Bonnie lassie, ^c. 
5. 
Let fortune's gifts at random flee. 
They ne'er shall draw a wish frae*" me, 



t Bireh trees. 


5 Falls. 


8 Rivulet, 


2 Suruiner. 


6 Tufts. 


9 Wets. 


S Banks. 


7 Cataracts. 


10 From. 


4 Walls. 







ROBERT BURI^^S. 509 



Supremely blest wi' love and thee> 
In the birks of Aberfeldy. 

Bowiie lassie^ ^c. 



NOW SPRING HAS CLAD, §c. 

1- 

NOW Spring; has clad the grove in green. 

And streu'd the lea wi' flowers, 
The furrowM waving corn is seen 

Rejoice in fostering showers. 
While ilka' thing in nature join 

Their sorrows to forego, 
O why thus all alone are mine 

The weary steps of woe ! 

2. 
The trout within yon wimpling burn 

That glides a silver dart, 
And safe beneath the shady thorn 

Defies the angler's art : 
My life was ance^' that careless stream, 

That wanton trout was I; 

But love, wi' unrelenting beam, 
Has bcorch'd my fountains dry. 

3. 
The little floweret's peaceful lot, 

In yonder cliff" that grows. 
Which, save the linnet's flight, I wot, 

Nae^ ruder visit knows. 
Was mine— 'till love has o'er me past, 

And blighted a' my bloom ; 
And now beneath the withering blast 

My youth and joy consume. 

4. 
The waken'd lav-rock" warbling springs, 
And climbs the early sky, 

J Every. 2 Once. 3 No. 4 Lark. 



510 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

Winnowing blythe her dewy wings, 

In morning's rosy eye : 
As little reck't I sorrow's power, 

Until the flowery snare 
Of witching love, in luckless hour, 

Made me the thrall of care. 

5. 
O had my fate been Greenland snows, 

Or Afric's burning zone, 
Wi' man and nature leagued my foes. 

So Peggy ne'er Fd known ! 
The wretch whase^ doom is " hope nae mair,'^^ 

What tongue his woes can tell ; 
Within whase bosom, save despair, 

Nae kinder spirits dwell ! 

1 Whose. 2 More, 



FRAGMENT. 

Tune — " Daintie Davie." 

1. 
THERE was a lad was born in Kyle,^ 
But vvhat'n* a day o' what'n a style 
I doubt its hardly worth the while 
To be sae* nice wi' Robin. 

CHORUS. 

Robin was a rovin' boy, 

Rantin^ rovirH , rantin^ rovirC i 

Robin was a roving boy, 
Rantin^ rovin^, Robin. 

2. 
Our monarch's hindmost year but ane* 
Was five- and- twenty days begun, 
'Twas then a blast o' Janwar^ Win, 
Blew hansel* in on Robin. 
Robin was, ^c. 

t What. 2 So. 3 One. 4 January wind. 5 Handsel. 

• A district in Ayreshire, 



ROBERT BURNS. 511 

The pjossip keekit^ in his loof,^ 
Quo' scho' wha^ lives will see the proof, 
This waly* bov will be nae® coof, 
I think we'll ca'^ him Robin. 
Robin was, ^c, 

4. 
He'll hae' misfortunes sjreat and sma'/ 
But ay^° a heart aboon" them a' ; 
He'll be a credit 'till us a'. 
We'll a' be proud o' Robin, 
Robin was, ^c, 

5. 

But sure as three times three mak^^ nine, 
I see by ilka^^ score and line, 
This chap^* vvill dearly like our kin',** 
So leeze*^ me on thee Robin, 
Robin was, i^c, 

6. 

Guid" faith quo' scho I doubt you Sir, 

Ye gar" the lasses, * * * * 
But twenty fauts'^ ye mav hae waur^" 
So blessin's on thee, Robin ! 
Robin was, i^c. 

15 Kind, 

16 My blessing 

17 Good. 

18 MAe. 

19 FhuUs. 

20 Worse. 



HUNTING SONG. 

1. 

THE heather^ was blooming ; the meadows were 

mawn^ 
Our lads gaed^ a hunting, ae* day at the dawn, 

1 Heath. 1 Moweil. 2 Went. 4 One, 



1 Peeped. 


8 Have. 


2 Hand, 


9 Siiiail, 


3 She. 


10 Always, 


4 Who. 


11 Above. 


5 Thriving. '. 


12 Mike. 


6 No blockhead. 


13 Every. 


7 Call. 


14 Fellow. 



Sn THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

O'er moors o'er mosses and mony^ a glen, 
At length they discovered a bonnie moor-hen. 

CHORUS. 

/ rede^ you beware at the hunting, young men : 
I rede you bexvare at the hunting, young men: 
Tak^ some on the wing, and some as they spring. 
But cannily* steal on a bonnie moor-hen, 

2. 
Sweet brushing the dew from the brown heather 

bells,^ 
Her colors betray 'd her on yon mossy fells :^ 
Her plumage out-lustred the pride o' the spring, 
And O ! as she wantoned gay on the wing. 

I rede, ^c. 

3. 
Auld^ Phoebus himsel,^ as he peep'd o'er the hill ; 
In spite at her plumage he tryed his skill ; 
He levell'd his rays where she bask'd on the brae^ — 
His rays were outshone, and but mark'd where she 
lay. 

1 rede, &'c, 

4. 
They hunted the valley, they hunted the hill ; 
The best of our lads wi' the best o' their skill; 
But still as the fairest she sat in their sight, 
Then, whirr ! she was over, a mile at a flight. — 

/ rede, i^c. 



I Many. 


4 Cautiously. 


7 Old. 


2 Warn. 


5 Blossoms. 


8 Himself. 


3 Take. 


6 Ridges of mountains. 


9 Side of the hill. 



ROBERT BURNS, 513 



UP IN THE MORNING EARLY. 

CHORUS. 

Up in the morniiig;''s no^ for me, 

Up in the morning early : 
When a' the hills are covered wi' snaw,^ 

I'm sure it's winter fairly. 

1. 
COLD blaws^ the wind frae^ east to west, 

The drift is driving sairly !' 
Sae^ loud and shrill's I hear the blast, 

I'm sure it's winter fairly. 

Up hi the morning' Sj ^c. 

2. 
The birds sit chittering'' in the thorn, 

A' day they fare but sparely ; 
And lang's^ the night frae e'en to morn, 
I'm sure it's winter fairly. 

Up in the morning's^ ^c. 



I Not. 


4 From. 


7 Shivering, 


*2 Snow. 


5 Sorely, 


8 Long's, 


3 Blows. 


6 So. 





JOHN ANDERSON MY JO.* 

1. 
JOHN ANDERSON my jo, John, 

I wonder what you mean, 
To rise so soon in the morning, 

And sit up so late at e'en ; 
Ye'U blear^ out a' your een,^ John, 

And why should you do so ? 
Gang^ sooner to your bed at e'en, 

John Anderson my jo. 

1 Blind. 2 Eye. 3 Go. 

• The sixth and eight stanzas of this Song only were written by Burns, the 
rest were iininoved by lijm. 

3 T 



514 THE POETICAL WORK.S OF 

2. 
John Anderson my jo, John, 

When nature first began 
To try her canny^ hand, John, 

Her master- work was man: 
And you amang^ them a' John, 

Sne^ trig frae tap to toe, 
She proved to be nae" journey-work, 

John Anderson my jo. 

3. 
John Anderson my jo, John, 

Ye were my first conceit. 
And ye need na* think it strange, John, 

Tho* I ca'^ ye trim and neat ; 
Tho' some folks say ye're auld^ John, 

I never think ye so, 
But I think ye're ay^ the same to me, 

John Anderson my jo. 
4. 
John Anderson my jo, John, 

We've seen our bairns' bairns,^ 
And yet, my dear John Anderson, 

I'm happy in your arms ; 
And sae are ye in mine, John — 

I'm sure ye'll ne'er say no, 
Tho' the days are gane^° that we have seen, 

John Anderson my jo. 
5. 
John Anderson my jo, John, 

What pleasure does it gie," 
To see sae many sprouts, John, 

Spring up 'tween you and me ; 
And ilka^^ lad and lass, John, 

In our footsteps to go. 
Makes perfect heaven here on earth, 

John Anderson, my jo. 

1 Dexterous. 5 Not. 9 Children's children, 

2 Among. 6 Call. 10 Gone. 

3 So neat from top. 7 Old. 11 Give. 

4 No. 8 Always. 12 Every. 



ROBERT BURNS. 515 

6. 
John Anderson my jo^ John, 

IP hen we xue?'e first acquaint. 
Your locks xvei'e like the raven. 

Your bonnie brow was brent ;^ 
But now your head's turn'd bald, John, 

Your locks are like the snow. 
Yet, blessings on your frosty pow, 

John Anderson my jo. 

7. 
John Anderson my jo, John, 

Frae year to year we've past. 
And soon that year maun^ come, John, 

Will brine: us to our last : 
But let na' that affright us, John, 

Our hearts were ne'er our foe, 
While in innocent delight we lived, 

John Anderson my jo. 

8. 
John Anderson my jo, John, 

We clamb the hill thegither^ 
And mony'^ a canty^ day, John, 

We^ve had wi^ ane^' a?iither ; 
Mow we maun totter doxvn, John, 

But hand in hand will go; 
And we'll sleep thegither at the foot ^ 

John Anderson my jo, 

1 High. 3 Together. 5 Cheerful. 

1 jSIust. 4 Many. C One another. 



JOHN BARLEYCORN,* A BALLAD. 

1. 
TflERE were three kings into the east, 

Three kings both great and high ; 
An' they have sworn a solemn oath, 

John Barleycorn should die. 

* This is partly composed on the plan of an old song known by the sama 
name. 



516 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

2. 
They took a plou^^h and ploogli'd him down, 

Put clods upon his head, 
And they hae sworn a solemn oath, 

John Barleycorn was dead. 

3. 

But the cheerful spring came kindly on, 

And show'rs began to fall ; 
John Barleycorn got up again, 

And sore surpris'd them all. 

4. 
The sultry suns of summer came, 

And he grew thick and strong, 
His head well arm'd wi' pointed spears, 

That no one should him wronc:. 



'iD' 



5. 
The sober autumn entered mild. 

When he grew wan and pale ; 
His bending joints and drooping head, 

Show'd he began to fail. 

6. 

His colour sicken'd more and more, 

He faded into age ; 
And then his enemies began 

To shew their deadly rage. 



They've ta'en a weapon, long and sharp 

And cut him by the knee ; 
Then ty'd him fast upon a cart, 

Like a rogue for forgerie. 

8. 
They laid him down upon his back, 

And cudgelPd him full sore ; 
Then hung him up before the storm, 

And turn'd him o'er and o'er. 



ROBERT BURNS. Sir 

9. 
They filled up a darksome pit, 

With water to the brim, 
Then heaved in John Birleycorn, 

There let him sink or swim. 

10. 
They laid him out upon the floor, 

To work him farther woe, 
And still, as signs of life appeared, 

They tossM him to and fro. 

11. 
They wasted o'er a scorching flame, 

The marrow of his bones ; 
But a miller us'd him worst of all. 

For he crush'd him 'tween two stones. 

12. 

And they hae ta'en his very heart's blood, 

And drank it round and round ; 
And still the more and more they drank, 

Their joy did more abound. 

13. 
John Barleycorn was a hero bold. 

Of noble enterprise. 
For if you do but taste his blood, 

'Twill make your courage rise. 

14. 
'Twill make a man forget his woe ; 

'Twill heighten all his joy : 
'Twill make the widow's heart to sing, 

Tho' the tear were in her eye. 

15. 
Then let us toast John Barleycorn, 

Each man a glass in hand ; 
And may his great posterity 

Ne'er fail in old Scotland ! 



518 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

THE FIVE CARLINS. 

AN ELECTION BALLAD. 
Tune. — " Chevy Chase." 

1. 
THERE were five Carlins' in the south, 

They fell upon a scheme, 
To send a lad to Lon'on town 

To bring us tidings hame.^ 

2. 
Not only bring us tidings hame, 

But do your errands there, 
And aiblins^ gowd and honour baith" 

Might be that laddie's share. 

3. 
There was Maggie by the banks o' Nith,*^ 

A dame wi' pride enough ; 
And Marjorie o' the monie Lochf 

A Carlin auld* and teugh. 

4. 
And blinkin Bess o' AnnandaleJ 

That dwells near Solvvay side, 
And whisky Jean that took her gill 

In Galloway § so wide. 

5. 
And auld black Joan, frae Creighton peel,ji 

O' gipsy kith^ and kin. 
Five weightier Carlins were na' found, 

The South kintra^ within. 

6. 
To send a lad to Lon'on town, 
They met upon a day, 



1 Old women. 


4 Both. 


7 Not. 


*i Home. 


5 Old and tough. 


8 Countiy 


3 Perhaps gold. 


6 Kindred and acquaintance. 





* Dumfries. + Locbmaben. t Annan. § Kirkcudbright. 1 Sanquhar. 



ROBERT BURNS. 519 

And monie* a Knight and monie a Laird 
That errand fain would gae.^ 

7. 
O monie a knight and monie a laird, 

This errand fain would gae, 
But nae^ ane could their fancy please, 

O ne'er a ane but twa.^* 

9. 

The first ane was a belted Knight, 

Bred o' a border band, 
An' he wad* gae to Lon'on town, 

Might nae man him withstand. 

10. 
And he wad do their errands weel,^ 

And meikle^ he wad say, 
And ilka^ ane at Lon'on court 

Wad bid to him guid^ day. 

11. 

Then niest^° cam in a sodger" youth, 

And spak^^ wi' modest grace, 
And he wad gae to Lon'on town, 

If sae their pleasure was. 

12. 
He wad na hecht" them courtly gift, 

Nor meikle speech pretend ; 
But he wad hecht an honest heart 

Wad ne'er desert his friend. 

13. 
Now whom to choose and whom refuse ; 

To strife thae" Carlins fell ; 
For some had gentle folk to please, 

And some wad please themsel.^* 



1 Many. C Well. 11 Soldier. 

2 Go. 7 Much. 12 Spoke with. 

3 No one. 8 Everyone. 13 Promise. 

4 Two. 9 Good. 14 Those. 

5 Would. iONextcarae, 15 Themselves, 



520 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

14. 
Then out spak mim-mou'cP Meg o' Nitb, 

An' she spak out wi' pride, 
An' she wad send the sodger youth 

Whatever might betide. 

15. 

For the auld guidman^ o' Lon'on court 

She did not care a pin, 
But she wad send the sodger youth 

To greet his eldest Son. 

16. 

Then up sprang Bess o' Annandale : 

A deadly aith^ she's ta'en, 
That she wad vote the border Knight, 

Tho' she should vote her lane.'' 

17. 

For far off fowls hae^ feathers fair, 

An' fools o' change are fain ; 
But I hae tried the border Knight, 

I'll try him yet again. 

18. 
Says auld black Joan frae^ Creighton peel, 

A Carlin stout and grim, 
The auld guidman or young guidman. 

For me may sink or swim. 

19. 
For fools may prate o' right and wrang, 

While knaves laugh them to scorn ; 
But the Sodger's friends hae blawn^ the best, 

Sae he shall bear the horn. 

20. 
Then whisky Jean spak o'er her drink, 
Ye weel ken' kimmers a'. 



1 Prim-moulh'd. 4 Lone. 7 Blown. 

2 Goodman. 5 Have. 8 Know gossips ull. 

3 Oath. 6 From. 



ROBERT BURNS. 521 

The anld guidman o' Lon'on court, 
His back's been at the wa'.* 

21. 
And monie a friend that kiss'd his caup,^ 

lb now a frammit' wight ; 
But it's ne'er sae wi' whisky Jean, 

We'll send the border Knight. 

22. 
Then slow raise Marjorie o' the Lochs, 

And wrinkled was her brow : 
Her ancient weed was russet gray, 

Her auld Scots heart was true. 

23. 
There's some great folks set light by me, 

I set as light by them ; 
But I will send to Lon'on town 

Wha* I lo'e best at hame. 

24. 
So how this weighty plea will end, 

Nae mortal wiajht can tell ; 
G — d grant the King and ilka man 

May look weel to himsel.* 

t Wall. 3 Estranged. 5 Himself, 

2 Cup. 4 Whom I love. 



THE FETE CHAMPETRE.* 

Tunt — " Gillicrankie." 

1. 
O WHA^ will to Saint Stephen's house, 

To do our errands there, man ? 
O wha will to Saint Stephen's house, 

O' the merry lads of Ayr, man ? 

1 Who. 

' The occasion of this ballad was as follows :— When Mr. Cunningham of 
Enterkin,came to his estatf, two mansion-houses on it,Enifrkiii and Auhank, 
•were both in a ruinous state. Wisning to introduce himself with some eclat to 
the country, he got temporary erections made on the banks of the Ayr, tl^ste-' 

3 u 



522 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

Or will we send a mano'law ? 

Or uill we send a sodger?^ 
Or him wha led o'er Scotland a', 

The meikle* ursa major?* 

9.. 
Come, M'ill ye court a noble lord, 

Or buy a score o' lairds, man ? 
For worth and honour pawn their word, 

Their vote shall be Glencaird's, man ? 
Ane^ ffies them coin, aue j^ies them wine, 

Another gies them clatter ; 
Aubank, wha s^uessed the ladies' taste, 

He gies a Fete Chumpetre. 

3. 
When love and beauty heard the news, 

The gay green- woods amaii.:^,'* man ; 
Where gathering flowers and busking bowers^ 

They heard the blackbird's sang,* man ; 
A vow, they seal'd it with a kiss 

S;r, Politics to fetter. 
As their's al )ne, the patent-bliss, 

To hold a Ffete Champetre. 

4. 
Then mounted mirth, on gleesome wing, 
O'er hill and dale she flew, man ; 

1 Soldier. 3 One gives. 5 Song. 

2 Great. 4 Among. 

fully decorated with shrnbs and flowers, for a supper and ball, to which m'ost 
of tUe resp'^cti-bli- farnil.>-3 in the county wi re iiniud. It w:is a novilfy m the 
county, and aitracied niucli n'ltice. A dissolution of pailimnent was soon ex- 
pected, anil this l^stiviiy «as thought to i>e an intinduction to canvass for re- 
presenting ih'' county. Several other candidau-s were s)>oken ot, particularly 
Sir John Whiteiord, th' n residing at Chmcaird, commonly pronounced Glen- 
caiid, and Mr Hnsv'*-'!!, the well known bii'graph'r of Dr. Johnson. The 
political views oK this f-siive assenihljtge, which are alluded to in the ballad, if 
they e\er existed, were, however, laiiJ aside, as Mr. C. did not cau*ass the 
county. 

* This alludes to an anecdote told of Lord Auchinleck, the father of Mr. 
Boswell. it was said, th!it ;>tf'r Ur. Johnson r^iireil, on the fii-st evening of 
his arrival at Anchinleck-H /use, Mr. Boswell, with his chariicteristic enthu- 
sifism, asked his father, — "Well, what dois }our Lordship think of the Doc- 
lor? Is h( noi a greal luminary, quite a cunstelhttion ?" The venerable 
Juilge humoMusly replied, " If be is a constellation, Jamie, 1 think he must 
be the ursa-iuajor." 



ROBERT BURNS. 52S 

Ilk'' wimplin,^ burn, ilk crystal spring;, 

Ilk tjjlen and shaw she knew, man : 
She summon'd every social sprite, 

That sports by wood or water, 
On the bonnie banks of Ayr to meet, 

And keep this Fete Champetre. 

5. 

CaukP Boreas, wi' his boisterous crew. 

Were bound to stakes like kye,^ man ; 
And Cynthia's car, o' silver fu','* 

Clatnb up the starry sky, man : 
Refl^'cted beams dwell in the streams, 

Or down the current shatter ; 
The western breeze steals thro' the trees, 

To view this Fete Champetre. 

6. 
How many a robe sae* ^aily floats ! 

What sparklinij; jewels glance, man ! 
To harmony's enchanting notes. 

As moves the mazy dance, man. 
The echoing woods, the winding flood, 

Like paradise did glitter. 
When angels met, at Adam's yett,^ 

To hold their Fete Champetre. 

7. 
When politics came there to mix, 

And make his ether-stane,'' man ! 
He circled round the magic ground, 

But entrance found he nane,* man : 
He blush'd for shame, he quat^ his name, 

Forswore it every letter. 
We humbly prayer to join and share 

This fesUve Fete Champetre. 



1 Each winding rivulet. 


4 Full. 


7 A'lder-stone, 


2 Cold. 


5 So. 


8 Noue. 


3 Cows. 


6 Gate. 


9 Quit. 



524 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

SONG. 

.^ir.— "The Collier's Dochter." 

1. 
DELUDED swain, the pleasure 

The fickle fair can give thee, 
Is but a fairy treasure, 

Thy hopes will soon deceive thee 

2. 

The billows on the ocean, 

The breezes idly roaming, 
The clouds' uncertain motion, 

They are but types of woman 

3. I 

O ! art thou not ashamed. 

To doat upon a feature ? 
If man thou would'st be named, I 

Despise the silly creature. " 

4. 
Go, find an honest fellow ; 

Good claret set before thee : 
Hold on till thou art mellow, 

And then to bed in glory. 



THE WHISTLE.— -A Ballad. 

As the authentic prose history of the Whistle is curious, 1 
shall here give it. — In the train of Anne of Denmark, when 
she came to Scotland with our James the Sixth, there came 
over also a Danish gentleman of gigantic stature and great 
prowess, and a matchless champion of Bacchus. He had 
a little ebony Whistle, which at the commencement of the 
orgies he laid on the table, and whoever was last able to 
blow it, every body else being disabled by the potency of 
the bottle, was to carry oif the Whistle as a trophy of vic- 
tory. The Dane produced credentials of his victories 
without a single defeat, at the courts of Copenhagen, Stock- 



ROBERT BURNS. 525 

holm, Moscow, Warsaw, and several of the petty courts in 
Germany ; and challenged the Scots Bacchanalians to the 
alternative of trying his prowess, or else of acknowledging 
their inferiority. After many overthrows on the part of 
the Scots, the Dane was encountered by Sir Robert Law- 
rie, of Maxwelton, ancestor of the present worthy baronet 
of that name ; who, after three days and three nights hard 
contest, left the Scandinavian under the table, 

^nt? blew on the Whistle his Requiem shrill. 

Sir Walter,^ son to Sir Robert before-mentioned, afterwards 
lost the Whistle to Waher Riddel of Glenriddel, who had 
married a sister of Sir Walter's. On Friday, the 16th of 
October, 1790, at Frias-Carse, the Whistle was once more 
contended for, as related in the ballad, by the present Sir 
Robert Lawrie, of Maxwelton; Roberi Riddel, Esq. of Glen- 
riddel, lineal descendant and representative of Walter 
Riddel, who won the Whistle, and in whose family it had 
continued; and "Alexander Ferguson, Esq. of Craigdar- 
roch, likewise descended of the great Sir Robert ; which 
last gentleman carried off the hard won honours of the 
field. 



1. 

I SING of a Whistle, a Whistle of worth, 
I sing of a Whistle, the pride of the North, 
Was brought to the court of our good Scottish king, 
And long with this Whisde all Scotland shall ring. 

2. 
Old Loda,* still rueing the arm of Fingal, 
The god of the bottle sends down from his hall — 
"This Whistle's your challenge, to Scotland get 

o'er, 
^* And drink them to hell, Sir ! or ne'er see me 
more !" 

3. 

Old poets have sung, and old chronicles tell, 
What champions ventured, what champions fell; 
The son of great Loda was conqueror still, 
And blew on the Whistle his requiem shrill. 

" See Ossian's Caric-thur», 



526 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

4. 
'Till Robert, the lord of the Cairn and the Scaur, 
Unmatch'd at the bottle, unconquerM in war, 
He drank his poor god-ship as deep as the sea, 
No tide of the Baltic e'er drunker than he. 

5. 
Thus Robert, victorious, the trophy has gained ; 
Which now in his house has for ages remain'd ; 
Till three noble chieftains, and all of his blood, 
The jovial contest again have renew'd. 

6. 
Three joyous good fellows, with hearts clear of 
flaw; 
Craigdarroch, so famous for wit, worth, and law ; 
And trusty Glenriddel, so skill'd in old coins 
And gallant Sir Robert, deep read in old wines. 

7. 

Craigdarroch began, with a tongue smooth as oil, 
Desiring Glenriddel to yield up the spoil; 
Or else he would muster the heads of the clan, 
And once more, in claret, try which was the man. 

8. 

" By the gods of the ancients !" Glenriddel replies, 
" Before 1 surrender so glorious a prize, 
" I'll conjure the ghost of the great Rorie More,* 
" And bumper his horn with him twenty times o'er." 

9. 

Sir Robert, a soldier, no speech would pretend. 
But he ne'er turn'd his back on his fee — or his friend. 
Said, Toss down the Whistle, the prize of the field, 
And, knee-deep in claret, he'd die or he'd yield. 

10. 

To the board of Glenriddel our heroes repair, 
So noted for drowning of sorrow and care ; 
But for wine and for welcome not more known to 

fame, 
Than the sense, wit, and taste, of a sweet lovely dame. 

'See Johnson's Tour to the Hebrides. 



ROBERT BURNS. 59.7 

11. 

A bard was selected to witness the fray, 
And tell future ages the feats of the day ; 
A bard who detested all sadness and spleen, 
And wish'd that Parnassus a vineyard had been. 

12. 

The dinner being over, the claret they ply, 
And ev'ry new cork is a new spring of joy ; 
In the bands of old friendship and kindred to set, 
And the bands grew the tighter the more they were 
wet. 

13. 
Gay pleasure ran riot as bumpers ran o'er ; 
Bright Phoebus ne'er witnessed so joyous a core, 
And vow'd that to leave them he was quite forlorn, 
'Till Cynthia hinted he'd see them next morn. 

14. 

Six bottles a piece had well wore out the night, 
When gallant Sir Robert, to finish the fight, 
Turn'd o'er in one bumper a bottle of red, 
And swore 'twas the way that their ancestors did, 

15. 
Then worthy Glenriddel, so cautious and sage. 
No longer the warfare, ungodly, would wage ; 
A high ruling Elder to wallow in wine ! 
He left the foul business to folks less divine. 

16. 
The gallant Sir Robert fought hard to the end 5 
But who can with fate and quart bumpers contend ? 
Though fate said — a hero should perish in light ; 
So uprose bright Phoebus — and down fell the knight. 

17. 

Next uprose our bard, like a prophet in drink ; — 
" Craigdarroch, thou'ltsoar when creation shall sink! 
" But if thou would flourish immortal in rhyme, 
" Come — one bottle more — and have at the sublime ! 



528 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

18. 
" Thy line, that have struggled for freedom with jj 
Bruce, * 

" Shall heroes and patriots ever produce ; 
*» So thine be the laurel, and mine the bay; 
" The field thou hast won, by yon bright god of day !*' 



LOUIS, WHAT RECK I BE THEE? 

1. 
LOUIS, what reck I by thee, 

Or Geordie on his ocean ? 
D} vor, beggar louns to nne, 

I reign in Jeanie's bosom. 

2. 
Let her crown my love her law, 

And in her breast enthrone me : 
Kings and Emp'rors, swith awa! 

Reif randies 1 disown ye ! 



SONG. 

Tune — « Sir John Malcom." 

Written in a wrapper inclosing a letter to Captain Grose> 
to be left with Mr. Cardonnel, antiquarian. 



1. 

KEN^ ye ought o' Captain Grose ? 

Igo^ &? ago. 
If he's among his friends or foes ? 

IraiUy coram ^ dago. 

1 Know. 



ROBERT BURNS. 529 

2. 

Is he South, or is he North ? 

Igo, £sP ago. 
Or drowned in the river Forth? 

Iram^ coram^ dago. 

3. 
Is he slain by Highland bodies ? 

IgOy y ago. 
And eaten like a wether-haggis '/ 

Iraiiiy coram^ dago. 

4. 
Is he to Abram's bosom gane V 

Igo, ^ ago. 
Or haudin^ Sarah by the wame?^ 

Iram, corain, dago. 

5. 
Where'er he be, the Lord be near him 1 

Igo, ^ ago. 
As for the deil he daur na* steer him, 

Jram, coram, dago. 

6. 
But please transmit th' inclosed letter, 

IgOy ^ ago. 
Which will oblige your humble debtor, 

Iram, coram, dago. 

7. 
So may ye hae^ auld stanes in store, 

Igo, ^ ago. 
The very stanes that Adam bore, 
Irajn, coram, dago. 

8. 
So may ye get in glad possession ; 

Igo, ^ ago. 
The coins o' Satan's coronation ! 

Ira?n, coram, dago. 

] See note, ivaije 1G5. 3 Holdin;^. 5 Dare not injure. 

'i Gone. 4 Belly. 6 Have old stones, 

3x 



530 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

THE LAND O' THE LEAL * 

Tune—" Hey Tuttie Taittie." 

1. 

I'M wearing awa,^ Jean, 

Like snaw^ when its thaw Jean, 

I'm wearing awa, 

To the Land o' the Leal.^ 

2. 
There's nae'' sorrow there Jean, 
There's nae cauld* nor care, Jean, 
The day is ay^ faiV, 

In the Land o' the Leal. 

3. 
Ye've been leal an' true, Jean, 
Your task's ended now, Jean, 
An' I'll welcome you, 

To the Land o' the Leal. 

4. 
Our bonnie bairn's^ there, Jean, 
She vvas baith* gude an' fair Jean ; 
An' we grudg'd her sair,^ 

To the Land o' the Leal. 

5. 
Dry that tearfu'^° e'e, Jean, 
My soul langs" to be free, Jean ; 
An' angels wait on me. 

In the Land o' the Leal. 

6. 
Then farewell my ain^^ Jean : 
This warld's" care's vain Jean ; 
We'll meet an' ay be fain. 

In the Land o' the Leal. 

10 Tearful eye. 

11 Longs. 

12 Own. 

13 World's. 

* This is supposed to be the last song written by the author addressed to 
his wife. 



1 Away, 


6 Ever. 


2 Snow. 


7 Child is. 


a Faithful. 


8 Both good 


4 No. 


9 Sorely. 


5 Cold. 





ROBERT BURNS. 531 



THERE'S A YOUTH IN THIS CITY. 

Tune — " Neil Gow's Lament for his Brother." 

The first four lines of this Song are old ; the rest are 

Burns'. 



1. 
THERE'S a youth in this city, it were a great pity 

That he from our lasses should wander avva;'^ 
For he's bonnie and bravv,^ weel^-favour'd with a', 

And his hair has a natural buckle and a'. 
His coat is the hue of his bonnet sae* blue ; 

His fecket' is white as the new-driven snaw;^ 
His hose they are blae/ and his shoon* like the slae,^ 

And his clear siller^° buckles they dazzle us a'. 
His coat is the hue, ^c» 

2. 
For beauty and fortune the laddie's been courtin' ; 
Weel-featur'd, weeP'tocher'd, weel-mounted and 
braw ; 
But chiefly the siller, that gars'^ him gang" till her, 

The penny's the jewel that beautifies a' — 
There's Meg wi' the mailin,*'' that fain wad^* a haen 
him, 
And Susy whase^^ daddy was laird o' the ha' ;^^ 
There's lang^^-tocher'd Nancy maist^^ fetters his fancy, 
— But the laddie's dear seP° he lo'es^^ dearest of a'. 
There's Meg wi^ the maiiin, ^c. 

15 Would have had. 

16 Whose. 

17 Hall. 

18 Long. 

19 Mostly. 

20 Self. 

21 Loves, 



1 Away. 


8 Shoes. 


2 Handsome. 


9 Sloe. 


3 Well. 


10 Silver. 


* So. 


11 Well -portioned, 


5 Under waistcoat. 


12 Makes. 


6 Snow. 


13 Go to. 


7 Livid. 


14 Farra. 



532 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 



IMITATION OF AN OLD BALLAD. 

These verses were written by Burns, in 1788, when he set- 
tled with his family, on the farm of Ellisland. 

1. 

I HAE^ a wife o' my ain,^ 

I'll partake wi' nae^-body ; . 
I'll tak" cuckold frae^ nane, 

I'll gie* cuckold to nae-body. 

2. 
I hae a penny to spend, 

There — thanks to nae-body ; 
I hae naething' to lend, 

I'll borrow frae nae-body. 

3. 
I an) nae-body's lord, 

I'll be slave to nae-body ; 
I hae a gude® braid sword, 

I'll tak dunts^ frae nae-body. 

4. 
I'll be merry and free, 

I'll be sad for nae-body ; 
If nae-body care for me, 

I'll care for nae-body. 

1 Have. 4 Take. 7 Nothing. 

2 Own. 5 From none. , 8 Good broad. 

3 Nobody. 6 Give. 9 Blows. 



THE DEAN OF FACULTY. 

A NEW BALLAD. 

1. 
DIRE was the hate at old Harlaw, 

That Scot to Scot did carry ; 
And dire the discord Langside saw, 

For beauteous, hapless Mary : 



ROBERT BURNS. 

But Scot with Scot ne'er met so hot, 
Or were more in fnry seen. Sir, 

Than 'tvvixt Hal and Bob for the famous job- 
Who shohld be Faculties Dean, Sir. 

2. 
This Hal for genius, wit, and lore, 

Among the first was number'd ; 
But pious Bob, 'mid learning's store, 

Commandment tenth remember'd, — 
Yet simple Bob the victory got, 

And wan his heart's desire ; 
Which shews that heaven can boil the pot, 

Though the devil p — s in the fire. — 

n 
O. 

Squire Hal besides had this in case 

Pretensions rather brassy, 
For talents to deserve a place 

Are qualifications saucy ; 
So their worships of the Faculty, 

Quite sick of merit's rudeness. 
Chose one who should owe it all d'ye see, 

To their gratis grace and goodness. — 

4. 
As once on Pisgah purgM was the sight 

Of a son of Circumcision, 
So may be, on this Pisgah height, 

Bob''s purblind mental vision : 
Nay, Bobby's mouth may be open'd yet 

Till for eloquence you hail him, 
And swear he has the Angel met 

That met the ass of Balaam — 



534 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 



SONG. 



Tune-—" The big-bellj'd bottle." 

1. 

NO churchman am I for to rail and to write, 
No statesman nor soldier to plot or to fight, 
No slyman of business contriving a snare. 
For a big-belly'd bottle's the whole of my care. 

2. 
The peer I don't envy, I give him his bow ; 
I scorn not the peasant, tho' ever so low ; 
But a club of good fellows, like those that are here, 
And a bottle like this, are my glory and care. 

3. 
Here passes the squire on his brother — his horse ; 
There centum per centum, the cit with his purse : 
But see you the crown how it waves in the air, 
There a big belly'd bottle still eases my care. 

4. 
The wife of my bosom, alas ! she did die ; 
For sweet consolation to church I did fly ; 
I found that old Solomon proved it fair. 
That a big-belly'd botde's a cure for all care. 

5. 
I once was persuaded a venture to make ; " 
A letter inform'd me that all was to wreck ; 
But the pursy old landlord just waddled up stairs, 
With a glorious bottle that ended my cares. 

6. 
" Life's cares they are comforts"* a maxim laid 

down 
By the bard, what d'ye call him, that wore the black 

gown ; 

* Young'3 Night Thoughts. 



ROBERT BURNS. 535 

And faith I agree with th' old prig to a hair ; 
For a biff-belly'd botde's a heaven of care. 

A Stanza added in a Mason Lodge. vvA^ ^'"^ ''^^' '" ^ 

Then fill up a bumper, and make it o'erflow, 
And honours masonic prepare for to throw ; 
May ev'ry true brother of th' compass and square 
Have a big belly'd bottle when harass'd with care. 



SONG. 

1. 

ANNA, thy charms my bosom fire, 
And waste my soul with care ; 

But, ah ! how boodess to admire, 
When fated to despair. 

2. 
Yet in thy presence, lovely Fair, 

To hope may be forgiv'n ; 
For sure 'twere impious to despair, 

So much in sight of Heaven. 



SONG. 

WRITTEN AND SUNG AT A GENERAL MEETING OF THE 
EXCISE OFFICERS AT DUMFRIES." 

1. 

THE deil cam' fiddling thro' the town, 
And danc'd awa'^ wi' the Exciseman; 
And ilka^ auld^ wife cry'd, " Auld Mahoun, 
'* We wish you kick o' the prize man. 

1 Away. 2 Every. 3 Old. 

• Burns bt-ing called upon for a song, handed these yerses extempore tn 
the president, written on the back of a letter. 



536 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

CHORUS. 

" JFe'll maJ{} our maut^ and brew our dr'ink^ 
" We^ II dance and sing and rejoice man ; 
*' And7nony^ thanks to the muckle* black deil, 
*' That danc'dawa'' xvi^ the Exciseman. 

2. 
There's threesome reels, and foursome reels, 
There's hornpipes and strathspeys, man ; 
But the ae* best dance e'er cam^ to our Ian', 
" Was the deil's awa' wi' the Exciseman. 

" JVeHlmakour mauty Qfc." 

1 Make. 3 Many. 5 One. 

2 Malt. 4 Great. 6 Came. 



ADOWN WINDING NITH, §c. 

1. 
ADOWN winding Nith I did wander, 

To mark the sweet flowers as they spring ; 
Adown winding Nith I did wander. 

Of Phillis to muse and to sing. 

CHORUS. 

Awa^ wi^ your belles and your beauties^ 
They never ivi'' her can compare : 

Whaever has met wi^ my Phillis^ 
Has met ivf the queen o' the fair. 

2. 
The daisy amus'd my fond fancy, 
So ardess, so simple, so wild ; 
Thou emblem, said I, o' my Phillis ! 
For she is simplicity's child. 
Awa, ^c. 

3. 
The rose-bud's the blush o' my charmer, 
Her sweet balmy lip when 'tis prest : 



ROBERT BURNS. 5S7 

How fair and how pure is the lily, 
But fairer and purer hei breast. 
Awa\ is'c, 

4. 
Yon knot of gay flowers in the arbour, 

They ne'er vv j' my Phillis can vie : 
Her breath is the breath o' the woodbine, 

It's dew drop o' diamond, her eye. 

5. 
Her voice is the song of the morning 

That wakes thro' the green-spreading grove, 
When Phoebus peeps over the mountains, 
On music, and pleasure, and love. 
Aiva'y ^c. 

6. 

But beauty, how frail and how fleeting — 
The bloom of a fine summer's day ! 

While worth in the mind o' my Phillis 
Will flourish without a decay.* 

Awa' ^c. 

• This song, certainly beautiful, would appear to more advantage without 
the chorus ; as is indeed the case with several other songs of our author. 



THE BANKS OF THE DEVON. 

The following verses were composed on a charming young 
girl, aMtss Charlotte Hamilton, afterwards Mrs. Adair, of 
Harrowgate. She was sister to Gavin Hamilton, of Mau- 
chline, our author's intimate friend ; and was born on the 
banks of the Ayr, but was at the time the lines were written 
residing at Herveyston, in Clackmannanshire, on the ro- 
mantic banks of the little river Devon. The air is taken 
from a gaelic song. 

3 y 



538 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

1. 

HOW pleasant the banks of the clear- winding Devon, 
With q:reen spreading bushes, and flowers bloom- 
ing fair ; 

But the bonniest flower on the banks of the Devon 
Was once a sweet bud on the braes of the Ayr. 

2. 
Mild be the sun on this sweet blushing flower, 

In the gay rosy morn, as it bathes in the dew ! 
And gentle the fall of the soft vernal shower, 

That steals on the evening each leaf to renew. 

3. 
O spare the dear blossom, ye orient breezes. 

With chill hoary wing as ye usher the dawn ! 
And far be thou distant, thou reptile that seizest, 

The verdure and pride of the garden and lawn ! 

4. 

Let Bourbon exult in his gay gilded lilies, 

And England triumphant display her proud rose, 

A fairer than either adorns the green vallies 

Where Devon, sweet Devon, meandering flows. 



GLOOMY DECEMBER, 

1. 
ANCE mair I hail thee thou gloomy December ! 

Ance mair I hail thee vvi' sorrow and care; 
Sad was the parting thou makes me remember, 

Parting wi' Nancy, Oh ! ne'er to meet mair. 
Fond lovers parting is sweet painful pleasure, 

Hope beaming mild on the soft parting hour ; 
But the dire feeling, farewell for ever^ 

Is anguish unmingl'd and agony pure. 

2. 
Wild as the winter now tearing the forest, 

'Till the last leaf o' the summer is flown, 
Such is the tempest has shaken my bosom. 

Since my last hope and last comfort is gone ; 



ROBERT BURNS. 539 

Still as I hail thee, thou gloomy December, 
Still shall I hail thee wi' sorrow and care ; 

For sad was the partino; thou makes me remember, 
Parting wi' Nancy, Oh, ne'er to meet mair. 



BEHOLD THE HOUR. 

Time — " Oran-Gaoil." 

1. 
BEHOLD the hour, the boat arrive ; 

I'hou goest, tnou darling of my heart! 
Sever'd from thee, can I survive ? 

But fate has will'd, and we must part. 
I'll often greet this surging swell, 
Yon distant isle will often hail : 
*' E'en here I took the last farewell ; 

" There latest mark'd her vanished sail." 

2. 
Along the solitary sh<:)re, 

Wliile flitting sea-fowl round me cry, 
Across the rolling, dashing roar, 

I'll westward turn my wistful eye; 
Happy thou Indian grove, I'll say. 

Where now my Nancy's path may be ! 
While thro' thy sweets she loves to stray, 

O, tell me, does she muse on me I 



BLYTHE HAE I BEEN. 

Tune — " Liggeram Cosh." 

1. 
BLYTHE hae^ I been on yon hill. 

As the lambs before me; 
Careless ilka' thf-ught and free, 

As thtt breeze flew o'er me : 

1 Have. 2 Erery. 



540 THE POE'nCAL WORKS OF 

Now nae* longer sport and play, 
Mirth or sang' can please me ; 

Lesley is sae^ fair and coy, 
Care and anguish seize me. 

2. 
Heavy, heavy, is the task, 

Hopeless love declaring : 
Trembling, I dow^ nocht but glowV, 

Sighing, dumb, despairing ! 
If she vvinna* ease the thraws* 

In my bosom swelling; 
Underneath the grass-green sod, 

Soon maun^ be my dwelling. 

1 No. 4 Do nought but stare. 6 Pangs. 

2 Song. 5 Will not. 7 Must. 

3 So. 



THE AULD MAN. 

BUT lately seen in gladsome green 

The woods rejoic'd the day. 
Thro' gentle showers the laughing flowers 

In double pride were gay : 
But now our joys are fled, 

On winter blasts a va !' 
Yet maiden May, in rich array, 

Again shall bring them a'. 
But my white pow,^ nae^ kindly thowe"* 

Shall melt the snaw s* of age; 
My trunk of eild,** but^ buss or bield. 

Sinks in time's wintry rage. 
Oh ! age has weary days. 

And nights o' sleepless pain ! 
Thou golden time o'^ youthfu' prime, 

Why com'st thou not again ! 

7 Without bush or sbel- 
U'.r. 

8 Of youthful. 



1 Away. 


4 Thaw. 


2 Head. 


5 Snows. 


3 No. 


6 Old age 



ROBERT BURNS. 541 

GANST THOU LEAVE ME THUS, MY KATY ? 

Tune—" Roy's Wife." 

CHORUS. 

Canst thou leave me thus, my Katy ? 
Canst thou leave me thus, my Katy ? 
Well thou know'st my aching heart, 
And canst thou leave me thus for pity? 

1. 

Is this thy plisfhted, fond regard, 

Thus cruelly to part, my Katy ? 
Is this thy faithful swain's reward — 

An aching, broken heart, my Katy ? 

Canst thouj ^c. ' 

2. 
Farewell ! and ne'er such sorrows tear 
That fickle heart of thine, my Katy ! 
Thou may'st find those will love thee dear — ■ 
But not a love like mine, my Katy. 
Canst thou J Csfc* 

• To this address, in the character of a forsaken lover, a reply was found on 
the part of tlie lady, among tht^ MSS. of our Bard, evidently in a female 
hand-wriiing. The teraptntion lo give it to the public is irresistible ; and if, 
in so doiPg, offence should be given to the fair authoress, the benuty of her 
verses must plead our excuse. 

It may amuse the reader to be told, that on this occasion the gentk-man and 
lady have exchanged the dialect of their respective countries. The Scottish 
bard makes his address in pure English : the reply on the part of the lady, in 
the Scottish dialect, is, if we mistake not, by a young and beautiful English- 
woman. * 



THE ANSWER. 

T«nc— "Roy's Wife." 
CHORUS. 

Stay, my Willie — yet believe me, 
Sta}', my Willie — yet believe me, 
For, ah ! thou know'st na" every pang 
Wad^ wring my bosom shouldst thou leave 
me. 

2 Not. 2 Would. 



542 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

1. 

Tell me that thou yet are true, 

And a' my wrongs shall be forgiven, 

And when this heart proves fause^ to thee, 
Yon sun shall cease its course in heaven. 
Stay my ffillie^ ^c. 

2. 
But to think I was betrayed. 

That fa!seh(>od e'er our loves should sunder! 
To take the flow'ret to my breast, 
And find the guilefu' serpent under. 
Stay my JVilliey is'c. 

3. 
Could I hope thou'dst ne'er deceive, 

Celestial pleasures mis^ht I choose 'em, 
I'd slight, nor seek in other spheres 

That heaven I'd find within thy bosom. 
Stay my ff^'illie, Csfr. 

1 False. 



A MOTHER'S LAMENT. 

Tune — "Finlayston House." 

This Song was composed to commemorate the much lament- 
ed and premature death of James Ferguson, Esq. Jun., of 
Craigdarroch, an uncommonly promising youth of eighteen 
or nineteen years of age. 



1. 
FATE gave the word, the arrow sped, 

And pierc'd my darling's heart : 
And with him all the joys are fled 

Life can to me impart. 
By cruel hands the sapling drops, 
, In dust dishonour'd laid : 
So fell the pride of all my hopes, 

My age's future shade. 



ROBERT BURNS. S4S 



2. 
The mother linnet in the brake 

Bewails her ravish'd youniJ: ; 
So I, for my lost darling's sake, 

Lament the live-day lons^;. 
Death oft, I fear'd thy fatal blow, 

Now, fond I bare my breast, 
O, do thou kindly l.ty me low, 

With him 1 love at rest. 



ENGLISH SONG. 

Tune — " Let me in this ae night." 

L 
FORLORN, my love, no comfort near, 
Fur, lar from thee, I wander here ; 
Far, far from thee, the fate severe 
At which I must repine, love. 

CHORUS. 

O ivert thou love but near me ; 
But near, near^ near me :, 
How kindli/ thou wouldst cheer me^ 
And mingle sighs with mine love, 

2. 

Around me scowls a wintry sky, 
That blasts each bud of hope and joy; 
And shelter, shade, nor home have I, 
Save in those arms of thine, love. 
wert^ £s?c. 

3. 

Cold, alter'd friendship's cruel part, 

To poison fortune's ruthless dart — 

Let me not break thy faithful heart, 

And say that fate is mine, love. 

werty ^c* 



544 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

4. 
But dreary tho' the moments fleet, 
O let me think we yet shall meet ? 
That only ray of solace sweet 
Can on thy Chloris shine, love. 
wert. ^c. 



THE YOUNG HIGHLAND ROVER. 

Tune — " Morag." 

1. 
LOUD blaw» the frosty breezes, 

The snaws* the mountains cover ; 
Like winter on me seizes, 

Since my young Highland Rover 

Far wanders nations over. 
Where'er he go, where'er he stray. 

May Heaven be his warden ! 
Return him safe to fair Strathspey, 

And bonnie Casde Gordon! 

2. 
The trees now naked groaning, 

Shall soon wi' leaves be hinging ; 
The birdies dowie^ moaning, 

Shall a' be blithly singing, 

And ev'ry flower be springing. 
Sae* PU rejoice the lee*-lang day, 

When by his mighty warden 
My youth's return'd to fair Strathspey, 

And bonnie Castle- Gordon!* 

1 Blew. 3 Worn with grief. 5 Live long. 

2 Snows. 4 So. 

• The young Highland Rover, is supposed to be the jouog Cheyalierj 
Prince Charles Edward. Ed. 



ROBERT BURNS. 545 



SONG. 



1. 

MY Chloris, mark how green the groves, 

The primrose banks how fair ; 
The balmy gales awake the flowers, 

And wave thy flaxen hair. 
2. 
The lav'rock* shuns the palace gay, 

And o'er the cottage sings : 
For nature smiles as sweet, I ween, 

To shepherds as to kings. 

3. 

Let minstrels sweep the skifu'^ string 

In lordly lighted ha' :^ 
The shepherd stops his simple reed, 

Blithe, in the birken"* shaw. 

4. 
The princely revel may survey 

Our rustic dance wi' scorn ; 
But are their hearts as light as ours 

Beneath the milk-white thorn? 

5. 
The shepherd, in the flow'ry glen. 

In shepherd's phrase will woo : 
The courtier tells a finer tale. 

But is his heart as true ? 

6. 
These wild-wood flowers I've pu'd,* to deck 

That spotless breast o' thine : 
The courtier's gems may witness love — 

But 'tis na® love like mine. 

1 Lark. 3 Hall. 5 Pull'd. 

2 Skilful. 4 Birchen. 6 No(. 

o Z 



546 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 



SONG. 

1. 

MY father pat^ me frae^ his door, 

My friends they hae' disown'd me a' ; : 

But I hae ane^ will tak* my part, 
The bonnie lad that's far avva'.« 

2. 
A pair o' gloves he gave to me, 

And silken snoods'' he gave me twa f 
And I will wear them for his sake, 

The bonnie lad that's far awa'. 

3. 
The weary winter soon will pass, 

And spring will cleed^ the birken'° shaw ; 
And my sweet babie will be born, 

And he'll come hamc" that's far awa'. 



I 


Put. 


6 


A way. 




8 


T wo. 


2 


From. 


7 


Fillets with which the 


<J 


Clothe. 


3 


Have. 




hair of youi 


g women 


10 Birchen. 


4 


One. 




is bound u^) 




11 


Home. 


5 


Take. 













ON THE BATTLE OF SHERIFF-MUIR, 

Fought between the Duke of Argyle and the Earl of Mar ; 
written about the time that Burns made his tour to the 
Highlands, 1787. 



1. 
*' O CAM^ ye here the fight to shun, 

" Or herd the sheep wi' man ? 
" Or ware^ ye at the Sherra-muir, 

" And did the battle see, man ?" 

1 Cumc. 2 Were. 



ROBERT BvURNS. 547 

I saw the battle, sair^ and tough, 
And reekin^-red ran mony^ a sheugh, 
My heart for fear gaed" sough for sough, 
To Iiear the thuds,* and see the ckids*^ 
O' clans frae'^ woods, in tartan^ duds, 
Wha^ glaum'd at kingdoms three, man. 

2. 
The red-coat lads wi' black cockades, 

To meet them were na^" slaw, man; 
They rush'd and push'd, and blude^^ outguslrd, 

And mony a bouk^^ did fa', man : 
The great Argyle led on his files, 
I wat^^ they glanced twenty miles ! 
They hack'd^^ and hash'd,^* while broad swords 

clash'd. 
And thro' they dash'd, and hew'd and smash'd, 

'Till fey**^ men died awa,^'' man. 

3. 
But had you seen the philibegs,^* 

And skyrin^^ tartan trews,^° man. 
When in the teeth they dar'd our whigs, 

And covenant true blues, man ; 
In lines extended lang^* and large. 
When bayonets oppos'd the targe. 
And thousands hasten'd to the charge, 
Wi' Highland wratli they frae the sheath 
Drew blades o' death, 'till out o' breath, 

They fled like frighted doos,^^ man. 

4. 
" O how deil Tarn can that be true ? 

" The chase gaed^^ frae the north, man ; 
" I saw myself, they did pursue 

" The horsemen back to Forth, man ; 

1 Sore. 10 Nut slow. 18 A garment worn by 

*2 Smoking. 11 Uiood. highlandmen instead 

3 Many a trencli. 12 IJody. of breeches. 

4 Went pant for pant. 13 Wot. 19 Shining. 

5 Noise of the cannon. l4 Cliopped. 20 Trowsers. 
fi Clouds. 15 Slashed. 21 Long. 

7 From. 10 Enemies. 2'2 Doves. 

8 Plaid rags. 17 Away. 23 Went from. 

9 Who grasp'd. 



548 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

" And at Dunblane, in my ain* sight, 
" They took the brig^ vvi' a' their might, 
" And straught" to Stirling winged their flight; 
" But, cursed lot ! the gates were shut, 
" And rnony a huntit,* poor red-coat 
" For fear amaist* did swarf,^ man." 

5. 

My sister Kate, cam up the gate^ 

Wi- crovvdie* unto me, man : 
She svvoor^ she saw some rebels run, 

Frae Perth unto Dundee, man ; 
Their left-hand general had nae'° skill, 
The Angus lads had nae good will 
That day their neebors" blood to spill ; 
For fear, by foes, that they should lose 
Their cogs^^ o' brose;'^ all crying woes, 

And so it goes you see, man. 

6. 
They've lost some gallant gentlemen, 

Amang'" the Highland clans, man ; 
I fear my Lord Panmnre is slain. 

Or fallen in whiggish hands, man : 
Now wad'* ye sing this double fight, 
Some fell for wrang,'*^ and some for right ; 
But money bade the world gude^^ night; 
Then ye may tell, how pelfand mell, 
By red clayniores^^ and musket's knell, 
Wi' dying yell, the tories fell, 

And whigs to hell did flee, man. 

1 J?^"- 7 Way. 13 Hasty puddiug. 

2 Budge. 8 QMtraeal pudding. 14 Among. 

3 Straight. 9 Swore. 15 Would. 

4 HuMted. 10 No. 16 Wrong. 

5 Almost, 11 Neigtibours. 17 Good. 

6 Swoon. 12 Wooden dishes. 18 Broadswords. 



ROBERT BURNS. 549 



SONG. 



Time—" The Sow's Tail." 

He. 
O PHILLY, happy be that day 
When roving through the gathered hay, 
My youthfu' heart was stown away, 
And by thy charms, my Philly. 

She. 
O Willy, ay I bless the grove 
Where first I own'd my maiden love, 
Whilst thou didst pledge the Powers above 
To be my ain dear VVilly. 

He. 
As songsters of the early year 
Are ilka day mair sweet to hear, 
So ilka day to me mair dear 
And charming is my Philly. 

She. 
As on the brier the budding rose 
Still richer breathes and fairer blows. 
So in my tender bosom grows 
The love I bear my Willy. 

He. 
The milder sun and bluer sky. 
That crown my harvest cares wi' joy, 
Were ne'er sae welcome to my eye 
As is a sight o' Philly. 

She. 
The little swallow's wanton wing, 
Tho' wafting o'er the flowery spring, 
Did ne'er to me sic tidings bring, 
As meeting o' my Willy. 



550 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

He, 

The bee, that thro' the sunny hour 
Sips nectar in the opening flower, 
Compar'd \vi' my delight is poor, 
Upon tlie lips o' Philly. 

She. 
The woodbine in the dewy weet 
When evening shades in silence meet, 
Is nocht sae fragrant or sae sweet 
As is a kiss o' Willy. 

He. 

Let fortune's wheel at random rin, 
And fools may tyne, and knaves may win ; 
Mv thoughts are a' bound up in ane. 
And that's my ain dear Philly. 

She. 
What's a' the joys that gowd can gie ! 
I care nae wealth a single fiie ; 
The lad I love's the lad for me, 
And that's my ain dear Willy. 



SAW YE MY PHELY. 

(Quasi dicat Phillis.) 
Tune — " When she cam ben she bobbit." 

1. 

O, SAW ye my dear, my Phely ? 
O, saw ye my dear, my Phely ? 
She's down i' the grove, she's wi' a new love, 
She winna^ come hame^ to her Willy. 

2. 
What says she, my dearest, my Phely ? 
What says she, my dearest, my Phely ? 
She lets thee to wit that she has thee forgot, 
And for ever disowns thee, her Willy. 

1 Will not. 2 Home. 



ROBERT BURNS. 551 



'o. 



O, had I ne'er seen thee, my Phely ! 
O, had I ne'er seen thee, my Phely ! 
As light as the air, and fause' as thou's fair, 
ThoLi's broken the heart o' thy Willy. 



1 False. 



MY WIFE'S A WINSOME WEE THING. 

1. 

SHE is a winsome^ wee^ thing. 
She is a handsome wee thing, 
She is a bonnie wee thing, 
This sweet wee wife o' mine. 

2. 
I never saw a fairer, 
I never lo'ed^ a dearer ; 
And niesf my heart I'll wear her. 
For fear my jewel tine.' 

3. 
*She is a winsome wee thing, 
She is a handsome wee thing, 
She is a bonnie wee thing. 
This sweet wee wife o' mine. 



1 Engaging. 3 Lovofl. 5 Be lost. 

2 Liule. 4 Next. 

» VARIATION'. 

1. 
O LEEZE me on my wee thinpf. 
My bonnie blithsomc wee thing; 
Sae lang's I hae my wee thing, 
I'll think my lot divine. 

2. 
The' warld's care we share o't. 
And may see meickle mair o't, 
Wi' her I'll hlithly bear it; 
And ne'er a word repine. 



552 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

4. 
The warld's^ wrack we share o't, 
The warstle^ and the care o't ; 
Wi' her Fll blythly bear it, 
And think my lot divine. 

1 World's trash. 2 Struggle. 



STAY, MY CHARMER, CAN YOU LEAVE ME. 

Tune—"A.n Gille Dubh Ciar Dhubh." 

1. 
STAY, my charmer, can you leave me ? 
Cruel, cruel to deceive me ; 
Well you know how much you grieve me 5 

Cruel charmer, can you go ? 

Cruel charmer, can you go ? 

2. 
By my love so ill requited ; 
By the faith you fondly plighted ; 
By the pangs of lovers slighted ; 

Do not, do not leave me so ! 

Do not, do not leave me so ! 



THE LAZY MIST. 

THE lazy mist hangs from the brow of the hill, 
Concealing the course of the dark winding rill ; 
How languid the scenes, late so sprightly, appear, 
As autumn to winter resigns the pale year. 
The forests are leafless, the meadows are brown, 
And all the gay fopp'ry of summer is flown ; 
Apart let me wander, apart let me muse. 
How quick time is flyinaj, how keen fate pursues ; 
How long I have liv'd — but how much liv'd in vain ; 
How little of life's scanty span may remain ; 



ROBERT BURNS. 555 

What aspects, old time, in his progress has worn; 
What lies, cruel fate, in my bosom has torn. 
How foohsh, or worse, 'till our summit is gained ! 
And downward, how weaken'd, how darkened how 

pain'd ! 
This life's not worth having with all it can give, 
For something beyond it poor man sure must live. 



CALEDONIA. 

7\tne-—" Caledonian Hunt's Delight." 

THERE was once a day, but old Time then was 
young, 

That brave Caledonia, the chief of her line, 
From some of your northern deities sprung, 

(Who knows not that brave Caledonia's divine?) 
Fr(!m Tweed to the Orcades was her domain. 

To hunt, or to pasture, or do what she would : 
Her heav'niy relations there fixed her reign. 

And pledg'd her their godheads to warrant it good. 

2. 
A lambkin in peace, but a lion in war. 

The pride of her kindred, the heroine grew : 
Her grandsire, old Odin, triumphantly swore. — 

" Whoe'er shall provoke thee, th' encounter shall 
rue ;" 
With tillage or pasture at times she would sport, 

To feed her fair flocks by her green rustling corn ; 
But chiefly the woods were her fav'rite resort, 

Her darling amusement, the hounds and the horn. 

3. 
Long quiet she reigned : till thitherward steers, 

A flight of bold eagles from Adria's strand ;* 
Repeated, successive, for many long years, 

They darken'd the air, and they plunder'd the land: 

* The Romans. 
4 A 



554 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

Their pounces were murder, and terror their cry, 
They'd conquered and ruin'd a world beside ; 

She took to her hills, and her arrows let fly, 
The daring invaders they fled or they died. 

4. 
The fell Harpy-raven took wing from the north. 

The scourge of the seas, and the dread of the 
shore;* 
The wild Scandinavian boar issued forth 

To wanton in carnage and wallow in gore if 
O'er countries and kingdoms their fury prevailed, 

No arts could appease them, no arms could repel ; 
But brave Caledonia in vain they assail'd, 

As Largs well can witness, and Loncartie tell 4 

5. 
The Camelon-savage disturbed her repose, 

With tumult, disquiet, rebellion, and strife ; 
Provok'd be\ end bearing, at last she arose. 

And robb'd him at once of his hopes and his life.^ 
The Anglian lion, the terr<;r of France, 

Oft prowling, ensanguined the Tweed's silver 
flood ; 
But taught by the bright Caledonian lance, 

He learned to fear in his own native wood. 

6. 
Thus bold, independent, unconquer'd, and free, 

Her bright course of glory for ever shall run : 
For brave Caledonia immortal must be ; 

I'll prove it from Euclid as clear as the sun : 
Rectangle-triangle, the figure we'll choose. 

The upright is Cliance, and old Time is the base : 
But brave Caledonia's the hypothenuse ; 

Then, ergo, she'll match them, and match them 
always. II 

• The Saxons. f The Danes. 

± Two famoua battles in which the Danes or Norwegians were defeated. 

§ The Highlanders of the Isles. 

H This singular figure of poetry, taken from the mathematics, refers to the 
famous proposition of Pythagoras, the 47ih of Euclid. In a right-angled tri- 
angle, ihc square of the hypothenuse is always equal to the squares of the two 
ollser sides. 



ROBERT BURNS. 555 

THINE AM 1, ^c. 

Tune — " Leiger m'choss." 

1. 
THINE am I, my faithful fair, 

Thine, my lovely Nancy ; 
Ev'ry pulse along my veins, 

Ev'ry roving fancy. 

2. 
To thy bosom lay my heart, 

There to throb and languish : 
Tho' despair had wrung its core, 

That would heal its anguish. 

3. 
Take away those rosy lips, 

Rich with balmy treasure : 
Turn away thine eyes -of love, 

Lest I die with pleasure. 

4. 
What is life, when wanting love? 

N'ght without a mvorning : 
Love's the cloudless summer sun, 

Nature gay adorning. 



THE GALLANT WEAVER. 

1. 
WHERE Cart* rins^ rowin to the sea, 
By niony^ a flijw'r and spreading tree, 
There lives a lad, the lad for me — 
He is a gaUant weaver. 

1 Tluns roUing. 2 Many. 

• A small river in Renfrew«hive, which takes Us rise in Castle Semple- 
locks-, and alter a circv.itoi'3 ciiursf ol fnurioom miies, " passing through 
Cathcartand Paisley," lalU into the Clyde near Renfrew, 



556 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

2. 

Oh ! I had wooers aught^ or nine, 
They gied^ me rings and ribbons fine ; 
And I was fear'd my heart would tine,' 
And I gied it to the weaver. 

3. 
My daddie sign'd my tocher^-band, 
To gie* the lad that has the land ; 
"But to my heart Pll add my hand, 
And gie it to the weaver. 

4. 
While birds rejoice in leafy bovvers ; 
While bees delight in op'ning flowers ; 
While corn grows green in simmer^ showers; 
I'll love my gallant weaver.* 

1 Eight 3 Be lost. 5 Give. 

2 Gave. 4 Marriage contract. 6 Summer. 

" In some Editions, milor is substituted for weaver. 



FRAGMENT. 

Tune—" The Caledonian Hunt's Delight." 

1. 
WHY, why tell thy lover, 

Bliss he never must enjoy? 
Why, why undeceive him, 

And give all his hopes the lie ? 

2. 
O why, while fancy, raptur'd, slumbers, 

Chloris, Chloris all the theme. 
Why, why wouldst thou cfuel. 

Wake thy lover from his dream ? 



ROBERT BURNS. 557 



SONG. 



1. 
WILL ye go to the Indies, my Mary,* 

And leave auld^ Scotia's shore ? 
Will ye i^o to the Indies, nriy Mary, 

Across th' Atlantic's roar ? 

2. 

sweet grows the lime and the orange. 
And the apple on the pine ; 

But a' the charms o' the Indies 
Can never equal thine. 

3. 

1 hae^ sworn by the Heavens to my Mary, 

I hae sworn by the Heavens to be true ; 
And sae^ may the Heavens forget me, 
When I forget my vow 1 

4. 
O plight me your faith, my Mary, 
And plight me your lily-white hand; 

plight me your faith my Mary, 
Before I leave Scotia's strand. 

5. 
We hae plighted our troth, my Mary, 

In mutual affection to join ; 
And curst be the cause that shall part us ! 

The hour and the moment o' time !f 

1 Old. 2 Have. 3 So. 

• Doubtless hisHighlanrl Mary. 

f This song Mr. Thomson has not adopted in his collection. It deserres 
however to be preserved. 



558 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 



TALK NOT OF LOVE, IT GIVES ME PAIN, 

The first three Stanzas are the production of the Lady who 
corresponded with Burns, under the fictitious name of 
Clarindaj the last stanza is by Burns. 



1. 
TALK not of love, it gives me pain, 

For love has been my foe : 
He bound me with an iron chain, 

And sunk me deep in woe. 

2. 
But friendship's pure and lasting joys 

My heart was form'd to prove : 
There, welcome, win and wear the prize, 

But never talk of love. 

3. 
Your friendship much can make me blest, 
O, why that bliss destroy ? 
[only] 
Why ur^e the odious one request, 
' [will] 

You know I must deny. 

4. 
Your thought, if love must harbour there, 

Conceal it in that thought, 
Nor cause me from my bosom tear 

The very friend 1 sought. 



FRAGMENT. 

1. 

THE winter it is past, and the simmer comes at last, 
And the small birds sing on every tree : 

Now every thing is glad while I am very sad, 
Since my true love is parted from me. 



ROBERT BURNS. 559 

2. 
The rose upon the brier by the waters running clear, 

May have charms for the linnet or bee ; 
The little loves are blest, and their little hearts at rest, 

But my true love is parted from me. 



TWO STANZAS, 

COMPOSED AT THE AGE OF SEVENTEEN, 

One of the oldest of his printed pieces. 

I DREx^M'D I lay where flowers were springing, 

Gaily in the sunny beam ; 
Listening to the wild birds singing, 

By a falling, crystal stream : 
Straight the sky grew black and daring ; 

Thro' the woods the whirlwinds rave ; 
Trees with aged arms were warring, 

O'er the swelling drumlie' wave. 
Such was my life's deceitful morning. 

Such the pleasures I enjoyed; 
But lang^ or noon, loud tempests storming 

A' my flow'ry bliss destroy'd. 
Tho' fickle fortune has deceiv'd me. 

She promis'd fair and perform'd but ill ; 
Of mony^ a joy and hope bereav'd me, 

I bear a heart shall support me still. 

1 Muddy. 2 Long. ,3 Many. 



THE RANTIN DOG, THE DADDIE O'T. 

1. 
O WHA^ my babie-clouts will buy ? 
Wha will tent^ me when I cry ? 
Wha will kiss me whare^ I lie ? 
The rantin' dog, the daddie o't. 

1 Who. 2 Tend. 3 Where. 



560 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

2. 
Wha will own he did the faut ?* 
Wha will buy my groan in- ma iit,'^ 
Wha will tell me how to ca't ?^ 
The rantin' dog, the daddie o't. 

3. 
When I mount the creepie-chair,< 
Wha will sit beside me there ? 
Gie* me Rob, I seek nae^ mair, 
The rantin' dog, the daddie o't. 

4. 
Wha will crack' to me my lane ?' 
Wha will mak^ me iidgin' fain ?" 
Wha will kiss me o'er again ? 
The rantin' dog, the daddie o't. 

1 Fault. 5 Give. 8 Lone. 

2 Malt. 6 No more. 9 Make. 

3 Name it. 7 Converse. 10 Tickled with pleasure. 

4 Stool of repentance. 



FROM THE FRIENDS, ^c. 

Burns added the four last lines by way of giving a turn to 
the themes of the poem. 



1. 
FRAE^ the friends and land I love, 

Driv'n by fortune's felly spite ; 
Frae my best belov'd I rove. 

Never mair* to taste delight. 
Never mair maun^ hope to find 

Ease frae toil, relief frae care. 
When remembrance racks the mind, 

Pleasures but unveil despair. 

1 From. 2 More. 3 Must. 



ROBERT BURNS. 561 

2. 

Brightest climes shall mirk^ appear, 

Desart ilku^ blooming shore ; 
Till the fates, nae^ raair severe, 

Friendship, love, and peace restore. 
Till revenge \vi' laurePd head, 

Bring our banish'd hame* again ; 
And ilka loyal, bonnie lad, 

Cross the seas and win her ain.* 

1 Dark. 3 No. 5 Own. 

2 Every. 4 Home. 



I DO CONFESS THOU ART SAE FAIR. 

This song is altered from a poem by Sir Robert Ayton, pri- 
vate secretary to Mary and Ann, queens of Scotland. The 
poem is to be found in James Watson's collection of Scots 
poems, the earliest collection printed in Scotland. I think 
that 1 have improved the simplicity of the sentiments, by 
giving them a Scots dress. Authob. 



1. 
I DO confess thou art sae fair, 

I uad^ been o'er the lugs^ in luve ;^ 
Had I na^ found the slightest prayer, 

That lips could speak, thy heart could muve.' 

2. 
I do confess thee sweet, but find 

Thou art sae^ thriftless o' thy sweets, 
Thy favours are the silly wind 

That kisses ilka^ thing it meets. 

3. 
See yonder rose-bud, rich in dew, 
Amang* its native briers sae coy, 

1 Would. 4 Not. 7 Every. 

2 Ears. 5 Move, 8 Among. 

3 Love. 6 So. 

4 B 



562 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

How sune* it tines^ its scent and hue, 
When pu'd^ and worn a common toy ! 

4. 
Sic* fate e'er lang* shall thee betide, 

Tho' thou may gaily bloom a while ; 
Yet sune thou shalt be thrown aside, 

Like ony^ common weed and vile. 

1 Soon. 3 PuU'd. 5 Long. 

2 Looses. 4 Such. 6 Any. 



YON WILD MOSSY MOUNTAINS. 

1. 

YON wild mossy mountains sae^ lofty and wide, 
That nurse in their bosom the youth o' the Clyde, 
Where the grouse lead their coveys thro' the hea- 
ther^ to feed, 
And the shepherd tents^ his flock as he pipes on his 
reed : 

Where the grouse ^ Qfc. 

2. 
Not Cowrie's rich valley, nor Forth's sunny shores, 
To me hae"* the charms o' yon wild, mossy moors ; 
For there by a lanely* and sequester'd stream. 
Resides a sweet lassie, my thought and my dream. 

3. 
Amang® the wild mountains shall still be my path. 
Ilk' stream foaming down its ain^ green, narrow 

strath ;^ 
For there, wi' my lassie, the day Iang^° I rove, 
W^hile o'er us, unheeded, flie the swift hours o' love. 

4. 
She is not the fairest, altho' she is fair ; 
C nice education, but sma' is her share ; 

1 So. 5 Lonely. 8 Own. 

2 Heath. 6 Among. 9 Valley. 

3 Tends. 7 Each. 10 Long. 

4 Have. 



ROBERT BURNS. 563 

Her parentage humble as humble can be ; 
But I lo'e the dear lassie because she lo'es me. 

5. 
To beauty what man but maun^ yield him a prize, 
In her armour of glances, and blushes, and sighs ; 
And when wit and refinement ha'e polish'd her darts, 
They dazzle our een* as they flie to our hearts. 

6. 
But kindness, sweet kindness, in the fond sparkling 

e'e,^ 
Has lustre outshining the diamond to me ; 
And the heart-beating love, as Fm clasp'd in her 

arms, 
O, these are my lassie's all conquering charms ! 

1 Must. 2 Eyes. 3 Eye. 



SONG. 

ALTERED FROM AN OLD ENGLISH SONG. 
Tune — " John Anderson my Jo." 

1. 

HOW cruel are the parents, 

Who riches only prize ; 
And to the wealthy booby, 

Poor woman sacrifice ! 
Meanwhile the hapless daughter 

Has but a choice of strife ; — 
To shun a tyrant father's hate, 

Become a wretched wife. 

2. 

The ravening hawk pursuing, 

The trembling dove thus flies. 
To shun impelling ruin 

A while her pinions tries : 
Till of escape despairing, 

No shelter or retreat, 
She trusts the ruthless falconer, 

And drops beneath his feet. 



564 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

EXTEMPORE IN THE COURT OF SESSION. 

Tune — " Gillicrankie." 

LORD A TE. 

HE clench'd his pamphlets in his fist, 

He quoted and he hinted, 
^Till in a declavnation-mist, 

His argument he tint^ it ; 
He o^aped for 't he gaped for 't, 

Hi; fand^ it was awa^ man ; 
But what his common sense come short, 

He eked out wi' law, man. 

MR. ER NE. 

Collected Harry stood awee,^ 

Then open'd out his arm man ; 
His lordship sat wi' ruefu' e'e,* 

And ey'd the gathering storm man : 
Like \\ ind-driv'n hail it did assail, 

Or torrents owre° a lin, man ; 
The Bench sae^ wise lift up their eyes, 

Half-waken'd wi' the din, man. 

1 Lost. ■* A little. 6 Over a cataract. 

2 Found. 5 Eye. 7 So. 

3 Away. 



SONG. 



HERE'S a bottle and an honest friend ! 

What wad ye wish for mair man ? 
Wha kens, before his life may end. 

What his share may be of care, man? 
Then catch the moments as they fl}', 

And use them as ye ought, man : — 
Believe me, happiness is shy, 

And comes not aye when ought man. 



ROBERT BURNS. 565 

MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 



THE FIRST SIX VERSES 
OF THE NINTIETH PSALM. 

1. 
O THOU, the first, the greatest friend 

Of all the human race ! 
Whose strong right hand has ever been 

Their stay and dwelling-place! 

2. 
Before the mountains heav'd their heads 

Beneath thy forming hand, 
Before this ponderous globe itself 

Arose at thy command : 

3. 
That pow'r which rais'd and still upholds 

This universal frame, 
From countless, unbeginning time, 

Was ever still the same. 

4. 
Those mighty periods of years, 

Which seem to us so vast, 
Appear no more before thy sight 

Than yesterday that's past. 

5. 

Thou giv'st the word ; thy creature, man, 

Is to existence brought ; 
Again Thou say'st, ' Ye sons of men, 

* Return ye into nought!' 



566 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

6. 
Thou lay est them with all their cares, 

In everlasting sleep ; 
As with a flood thou tak'st them off 

With overwhelming sweep. 

7. 
They flourish like the morning flow'fj 

In beauty's pride array'd ; 
But long e'er night, cut down it lies, 

All withered and decay'd. 



ADDRESS TO THE UNCO^ GUIDE, 



OR THE 

RIGIDLY RIGHTEOUS. 

My Son, these maxims make a rule, 

Aud lump them aj(2) thegither ; 
The Rigid Jiighteovs is a fool, 

The Rigid fVise anither ;(3) 
The cleanest corn that e'er was dight,(4) 

May hae(5) some pyles(6) o' caff in ; 
So ne'er a t'eilow-creature slight 

For random fits o' daffin.(7) 

Solomon — Eccles. vji. 16. 

1. 

O YE wha* are sae^ guid yoursel, 

Sae pious and sae holy, 
Ye've nought to do but mark and tell 

Your neebours''° fauts and folly! 
Whase^^ life is like a weel-gaun'^ mill, 

Supply'd wi' store o' water. 
The heaped happer's^^ ebbing still, 

And still the clap" plays clatter. 



1 Uncommonly good. 6 Particles of chaff. 11 Whose. 

2 Always together. 7 Folly. 12 Well-going, 

3 Another. 8 Who. 13 Hopper. 

4 Sifted. 9 So good yourselves. 14 Clapper of a mill. 

5 Have. 10 Neighbours' faults. 



ROBERT BURNS. 567 

2. 
Hear me, ye venerable core/ 

i\.s counsel for poor mortals, 
That frequent pass douce^ wisdom's door 

For glaikit^ folly's portals ; 
I, for their thoughtless, careless sakes, 

Would here propone defences, 
Their donsie* tricks, their black mistakes, 

Their failings and mischances. 

n 
O. 

Ye see your state vvi' their's compar'd, 

And shudder at the niffer,* 
But, cast a moment's fair regard. 

What maks^ the mighty differ? 
Discount what scant occasion gave, 

That purity ye pride in, 
And (what's aft mair^ than a' the lave^) 

Your better art o' hiding. 

4. 
Think, when your castigated pulse 

Gies^ now and then a wallop,^" 
What ragings must his veins convulse, 

That still eternal gallop : 
Wi' wind and tide fair i' your tail. 

Right on ye scud your sea way ; 
But, in the teeth o' baith^^ to sail, 

It maks an unco^^ leeway. 

5. 
See social life and glee sit down, 

All joyous and unthinking, 
Till, quite transmugrify'd,^' they're grown 

Debauchery and drinking : 
O would they stay to calculate 

Th' eternal consequences ; 



1 Corps. 


6 Mnkes. 


10 Agitated startle 


2 Modest. 


7 Oft more. 


11 Both. 


3 Giddy. 


8 All the rest. 


1'2 Great. 


4 Immoral. 


Gives. 


13 Transmuted. 


5 Exchange. 







568 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

Or your more dreaded h-11 to state, 
D-mnation of expenses ! 

6. 
Ye high, exalted, virtuous dames, 

Ty'd up in godly laces, 
Before ye gie \>oor fj-ailty names, 

Suppose a change o' cases ; 
A dear-lovM lad, convenience snug, 

A treacherous inclination 

But, let me whisper i' your lug,^ 

Ye're ablins^ nae^ temptation. 

7. 
Then gently scan your brother man, 

Still gentler sister woman ; 
Tho' they may gang'* a kennin wrang, 

To step aside is human ; 
One point must still be greatly dark. 

The moving why they do it ; 
And just as lamely can ye mark. 

How far perhaps they rue it. 

8. 
Who made the heart, 'tis He alone 

Decidedly can try us, 
He knows each chord — its various tone, 

"^ach spring — its various bias: 
Then at the balance let's be mute. 

We never can adjust it ; 
What's done we partly may compute, 

But know not what's resisted. 

1 Ear. 3 No. 

2 Perhaps. 4 Go slightly wrong. 



A PRAYER. 

March, 1784. 
There was a certain period of my life that my spirit was 
broke by repeated losses and disasters, which threatened, 
and indeed eflfected, the utter ruin of my fortune. My 



ROBERT BURNS. 569 

body too was attacked by the most dreadful distemper, a 
hypochondria, or confirmed melancholy. In this wretched 
state, the recollection of which makes me shudder, I hung 
my harp on the willow trees, except in some lucid inter- 
vals, in one of which I composed the following : — 

Author. 



1. 
O THOU great Being ! what thou art, 

Surpasses me to know : 
Yet sure I am, that known to thee 

Are all thy works below, 

2. 
Thy creature here before thee stands, 

All wretched and distrest ; 
Yet sure those ills that wring my soul 

Obey thy high behest. 

3. 
Sure thou, Almighty, canst not act 

From cruelty or wrath ! 
O, free my weary eyes from tears, 

Or close them fast in death I 

4. 
But if I must afflicted be, 

To suit some wise design ; 
Then, man my soul with firm resolves 

To bear and not repine ! . 



A PRAYER 

IN 

THE PROSPECT OF DEATH. 

1. 
O THOU unknown, Almighty Cause 

Ol all my hope and fear ! 
In Avhose dread presence, ere an hour, 

Perhaps I must appear ! 

4 c 



57© THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

2. 
If I have u ander'd in those paths 

Of life I ought to shun ; 
As something^ loudly in my breast, 

Remonstrates I have done ; 

3. 
Thou know'st that thou hast formed me 

With passions wild and stron,^ ; 
And listening to their witching voice 

Has often led me wrong. 

4. 
Where human weakness has come short, 

Or frailty stept aside, 
Do thou, All- Good! for such thou art, 

In shades of darkness hide. 

5. 

Where with intention I have err'd, 

No other plea I have, 
But, thou art good; and goodness still 

Delighteth to forgive. 



STANZAS 

ON THE SAME OCCASION. 

1. 

WHY am I loth to leave this earthly scene ? 

Have I so found it full of pleasing charms ? 
Some drops of joy with draughts of ill between ; 

Some gleams of sunshine, mid renewing storms 
Is it departing pangs my soul alarms ? 

Or death's unlovely, dreary, dark abode ? 
For guilt, for guilt, my terrors are in arms; 

I tremble to approach an angry God, 
And justly smart beneath his sin-avenging rod- 



ROBERT BURNS. 57% 

2. 
Fain would I say, * Forgive my foul offence !' 

Fain promise never more to disobey ; 
But should my Author, health again dispense, 
Again I might desert fair virtue's way ; 

Again in folly's path might go astray ; 

Again exalt the brute and sink the man; 
Then how should I for heavenly mercy pray, 

Who act so counter heavenly mercy's plan ? 
Who sin so oft have mourn'd, yet to temptation ran ? 

3. 
O Thou, Great Governor of all below I 

If I may dare a lifted eye to thee. 
Thy nod can make the tempest cease to blow, 

Or still the tumult of the raging sea : 
With that controuling pow'r assist ev'n me, 

Those headlong, furious passions to confine ; 
For all unfit I feel my powers to be. 

To rule their torrent in th' allowed line ; 
O, aid me with thy help, Omnipotence Divine f 



VERSES 

LEFT AT THE REV. DR. LAWRIE'S. 

The first time Burns heard the spinnet played upon, was 
at the house of Dr. Lawrie, then minister of the parish 
of Loudon, now in Glasgow, having given up the parish 
in favour of his son. Dr. Lawrie has several daughters : 
one of them played ; the father and mother led down the 
dance ; the rest of the sisters, the brother, the poet, and 
the other guests, mixed in it. It was a delightful family 
scene for our poet, then lately introduced to the world. 
His mind was roused to a poetic enthusiasm and this 
stanza, was left in the room where he slept. 

1. 
O THOU dread Pow'r, who reign'st above ! 

I knou thou wilt me hear : 
When for this scene of pe ice and love, 

I make my pray'r sincere. 



572 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

2. 
The hoary sire — the mortal stroke, 

Long, long, be pleas'd to spare ! 
To bless his little filial flock, 

And show what good men are. 

3. 
She, who her lovely oftsprint^ eyes 

With tender hopes and fears, 
O, bless her with a mother's joys, 

But spare a mother's tears I 

4. 
Their hope, their stay, their darling youth. 

In manhood's dawning blush ; 
Bless him, thou God of love and truth, 

Up to a parent's wish ! 

5. 
The beauteous, seraph sister-band, 

With earnest tears I pray, 
Thou know'st the snares on ev'ry hand, 

Guide thou their steps alway ! 

6. 
When soon or late they reach that coast, 

O'er life's rough ocean driv'n, 
May they rejoice, no wand'rer lost, 

A family in Heav'n ! 



THE FIRST PSALM. 

1. 

THE man, in life where-ever plac'd, 

Hath happiness in store, 
Who walks not in the wicked's way, 

Nor learn's their guilty lore ! 

2. 
Nor from the seat of scornful pride 

Casts forth his eyes abroad, 
But with humility and awe 

Still walks before his God. 



ROBERT BURNS. 573 



3. 
That man shall flourish like the trees 
. Which by the streamlets grow ; 
The fruitful top is spread on high, 
And firm the root below. 

4. 
But he whose blossom buds in guilt 

Shall to the ground be cast, 
And like the rootless stubble tost, 

Before the sweeping blast. 

5. 
For why ? that God the good adore 

Hath giv'n them peace and rest, 
But hath decreed that wicked men 

Shall ne'er be truly blest. 



EPITAPH FOR THE AUTHOR'S FATHER. 

O YE whose cheek the tear of pity stains, 

Draw near with pious rev'rence, and attend I 
Here lie the loving husband's dear remains. 

The tender father, and the gen'rous friend. 
The pitying heart that felt for human woe ; 

The dauntless heart that fear'd no human pride ; 
The friend of man, to vice alone a foe ; 

* For ev'n his failings lean'd to virtue's side.'* 

* Goldsmith. 

A BARD'S EPITAPH. 

1. 

IS there a whim-inspired fool, 
Owre^ fast for thought, owre hot for rule, 
Owre blate^ to seek, owre proud to snool,^ 

Let him draw near : 
And owre^ this grassy heap sing* dool, 
And drap' a tear. 

1 Too. 3 Submit tamely. 5 Lament. 

2 Bashful. 4 Over, 6 Drop. 



574 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

2. 
Is there a bard of rustic song, 
Who, noteless, steals the crowds among, 
That weekly this area throne^, 

O, pass not by ! 
But, with a frater- feeling strong, 

Here, heave a sigh. 

3. 
Is there a man, whose judgment clear, 
Can others teach the course to steer, 
Yet runs, himself, life's mad career. 
Wild as the wave. 
Here pause — and, thro' the starting tear, 
Survey this grave ! 

4. 
The poor inhabitant below. 
Was quick to learn and wise to know, 
And keenly felt the friendly glow. 

And softer Jiame; 
But thoughtless follies laid hini low, 

And stain'd his name ! 

5. 
Reader, attend — whether thy soul 
Soars fancy's flights beyond the pole. 
Or darkly grubs this earthly hole, 
In low pursuits, 
Know, prudent, cautious, self-control 
Is wisdom's root. 



DELIA. 

1. 
FAIR the face of orient day, 
Fair the tints of op'ning rose ; 
But fairer still my Delia dawns, 
More lovely far her beauty blows. 



ROBERT BURNS. 575 

2. 
Sweet the lark's wild-warWed lay, 
S^eet the tinklini^ rill to hear ; 
But, Delia, more delightful still, 
Steal thine accents on mine ear. 

3. 
The flower-enamnur'd busy bee 
The rosy banquet loves to sip ; 
S« eet the streamlet's limpid lapse 
To the sun-brovvn'd Arab's lip ; 

4. 
But, Delia, on thy balmy lips 
Let me, no vagrant insect, rove ! 
O let me steal one liquid kiss ! 
For Oh ! my soul is parch'd with love ! 



EPIGRAM 
ON CAPT. FRANCIS GROSE, 

THE CELEBRATED ANTIQUARIAN. 

The following Epigram, written in a moment of festivity by 
Burns, was so much relished by Grose, that he made it 
serve as an excuse, for prolonging the convivial occasion 
that gave it birth, to a very late hour. 



THE Devil got notice that Grose was a-dying, 
So whip! at the summons, old Satan came flying; 
But when he approach'd where poor Francis lay 

moaning, 
And saw each bed post with its burden a-groaning,* 
Astonished ! confounded ! cry'd Satan, by G-d, 
I'll want 'im, ere I take such a d ble load. 

• Mr. Grose was exceedingly corpulent, and used lo ralij himself with the 
greatest good humour, on the singular rotundity of his figure. 



576 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

GRACE BEFORE MEAT. 

1. 
O THOU, who kindly dost provide 
For ev'ry creatures want ; 
We bless thee, God of nature wide, 
For this thy goodness lent. 

2. 
And if it please thee, Heav'niy Guide, 
May never worse be sent. 
But whether granted or deny'd, 
Lord bless us with content ! — Amen. 



GRACE AFTER MEAT. 

1. 
O THOU, in whom we live and move. 
Who mad'st the sea and shore, 
Thy goodness constantly we prove. 
And grateful would adore. 

2. 
And if it please thee, Pow'r above. 
Still grant us with such store, 
The Friend we trust; the JFair we love; 
And we desire no more. — Amen. 



ODE, 

SACRED TO THE MEMORY OF MRS.- 

DWELLER in yon dungeon dark, 
Hangman of creation, mark ! 
Who in widow weeds appears, 
Laden with unhonoured years, 
Noosing with care a bursting purse, 
Baited with many a deadly curse ? 



ROBERT BURNS. 577 

STROPE. 

View the withered beldam's face — 
Can thy keen inspection trace 
Alight of Hu'^^aiiity's sweet inehing grace ? 
Note that eye, 'lis rheum o'erflows, 
Pity's flood there never rc^e. 
St-e those hands, ne'er stretch'd to save, 

Hands that took but never gave. 

Keeper of Mammon's iron chest, 1 

Lo, there she i^oes, unpitied and ur.blest, s 

She goes, but not to reahns of everlasting rest ! ) 

ANTISTROPHE. 

Plunderer of armies, lift ihme eyes ! 
(A while f irbear, ye tort'ring fiends,) 
Seest thou whose step, unwillinti, hither bends ? 
No fallen angel, hurl'd from upper skies ; 
'Tis thy trusty quondam mate, 
Doom'd to share thy fiery fate, 
She, tardy, hell- ward plies. 

EPODE. 

And are they of no more avail, 
Ten thousand glitt'rinsj^ pounds a-year? 
In other worlds can Mammon fail. 
Omnipotent as he is here ? 
O, bitter mock'ry of the pompous bier^ 
While down the wretched vital part is driv'n! 
The cave-lodg'd beggar, with a conscience clear, 
Expires in rags, unknown, and goes to heav'n. 



ADDRESS TO THE SHADE OF THOMSON, 

ON CROWNING HIS BUST, AT EDNAM, ROXBURGHSHIRE, 
WITH BAYS. 

1. 

WHILE virgin spring, by Eden's flood, 

Unfolds her tender mantle green, 
Or pranks the sod in frolic mood. 

Or tunes Eolian strains between : 
4 D 



578 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

2. 
While summer with a matron jrrace 

Retreats to Dryburgh's cooling shade, 
Yet oft, delighted, slops to trace. 

The progress of the spiky blade : 

3. 
While autumn, benefactor kind, 

By Tweed erects his aged head, 
And sees, with self- approving mind, 

Each creature on his bounty fed : 

5. 

While maniac winter rages o'er 

The hills whence classic Yarrow flows, 

Rousing the turbid torrent's roar. 

Or sweeping, wild, a waste of snows : 

6. 
So long, sweet poet of the year, 

Shall bloom that wreath thou well hast won; 
While Scotia, with exulting tear. 

Proclaims that Thomson was her son. 



EPITAPH ON JOHN BARLEY, WRITER, 
DUMFRIES. 

HERE lies John Barley, honest man! 
Cheat him. Devil, if you can. 



LINES WRITTEN AT THE FALL OF FYERS, 
NEAR LOCH-NESS. 

AMONG the heathy hills and ragged woods 

The roaring Fyers pours his mossy floods ; 

'Till full he dashes on the rocky mounds, 

Where, thro' a shapeless breach, his stream resounds. 

As high in air the bursting torrents flow, 

As deep recoiling surges foam below, 



ROBERT BURNS. 579 

Prone down the rock the whitening sheet descends, 
And viewless echo's ear, astonished, rends, 
Dim-seen, through rising mists and ceaseless show'rs. 
The hoary cavern, wide-surrounding, lowers. 
Still thro' the gap the struggling river toils, 
And still, below, the horrid caldron boils 



ON THE BIRTH OF A POSTHUMOUS CHILD. 

I. 
SWEET flow'ret, pledge o' meikle^ love, 

And ward o' mony^ a prayer. 
What heart o' stane^ wad thou na* move, 

Sae* helpless, sweet and fair. 

2. 
November hirples^ o'er the lea, 

Chill, on thy lovely form ; 
And gane,^ alas ! the shelt'ring tree, 

Should shield thee, from the storm. 

3. 

May He who gives the rain to pour. 

And wings the blast to blaw,^ 
Protect thee frae^ the driving show'r, 

The bitter frost and snaw.*** 

4. 
May He, the friend of woe and want, 

Who heals life's various stounds,". 
Protect and guard the mother plant, 

And heal her cruel wounds. 

5. 
But late she flourish'd, rooted fast, 

Fair on the summer morn : 
Now, feebly bends she, in the blast, 

Unshelter'd and forlorn. 

1 Mfch. 

2 Miiny, 

3 Stuue would. 
■i Not 



5 So. 


9 From, 


6 Creeps. 


10 Snow. 


7 Gone. 


11 Pains. 


8 Blow. 





580 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

6. 

Blest be thy bloom, thou lovely gem, 
UnscathM^ by ruffian hand ! 

And from thee many a parent stem 
Aribe to deck our land. 

1 Unhurt. 



EPITAPH FOR ROBERT AIKEN, ES^. 

KNOW thou, O stran(j;er to the fame 
Of this much lov'd, much honour'd name! 
(For none that knew him need be told) 
A warmer heart death ne'er made cold. 

ON READING, IN A NEWSPAPER, 

THE DEATH OF JAMliS M LEOD, ESQ. 

Broxbeii to a Young Ladt, a paeticulab friend of the Authob's. 

1. 

SAD thy tale, thou idle page, 

And rueful thy alarms : 
Deafh tears the brother of her love 

From Isabella's arms. 

2. 
Sweetly deckt with pearly dew 

The morning rose may blow : 
But cold successive noontide blasts 

May lay its beauties low. 

3. 
Fair on Isabella's morn 

The sun propitious smil'd ; 
But, longj ere noon, succeeding clouds 

Succeeding hopes beguil'd, 

4. 
Fate oft tears the bosom chords 

That nature finest strung : 
So Isabella's heart was foim'd. 

And so that heart was wrung. 



ROBERT BURNS. 581 

5. 
Dread Omnipotence, alone, 

Can heal the wound he gave : 
Can point the brimful, grief- worn eyes 

To scenes beyond the grave. 

6. 
Virtue's blossoms there shall blow, 

And fear no withering blast; 
There Isabella's spotless worth 

Shall happy be at last. 



LINES 

WRITTEN EXTEMPORE IN A LADY'S POCKET-BOOK. 

GRANT me, indulgent heav'n, that I may live 
To see the miscreants feel the pains they give ; 
Deal freedom's sacred treasures free as fair, 
Till slave and despot be but things which were. 

EPITAPH ON A FRIEISD. 

AN honest man here lies at rest. 
As e'er God with his image blest, 
The friend of man, the friend of truth ; 
The friend of age, and guide of youth : 
Few hearts like his, with virtue warm'd, 
Few heads with knowledge so inform'd : 
If there's another world, he lives in bliss. 
If there is none, he made the best of this. 



ON PASTORAL POETRY. 

1. 
HAIL Poesie ! thou nymph reserv'd ; 
In chase o' thee, what crouds hae^ swerv'd 

1 Have. 



582 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

Frae^ common sense, or sunk enervM 

'Mang^ heaps o' clavers f 

And och ! o'er aft"* thy joes* hae starv'd, 
Mid a' thy favours ! 

2. 
Say, lassie, why thy train amang, 
While loud, the trump's heroic clang, 
And sock and buskin skelp alang/ 

To death or marriage 5 
Scarce ane^ has tried the shepherd- sang,* 

But wi' miscarriage ? 

3. 
In Homer's craft Jock Milton thrives ; 
Eschylus' pen Will Shakespeare drives ; 
Wee^ Pope, the knurlin,** 'till him rives 

Horatian fame ; 
In thy sweet sang, Barbauld, survives 

Even Sappho's flame. 

4. 
But thee Theocritus, wha" matches ? 
They're no herd's ballats,'^ Maro's catches ; 
Squire Pope but busks" his skinklin" patches 

O' heathen tatters : 
I pass by hunders,^* nameless wretches, 

That ape their betters. 

5. 

In this braw^^ age o' wit and lear," 
Will nane" the shepherd's whisde mair^^ 
Blaw^° sweetly in its native air 

And rural grace ; 
And wi' the far fam'd Grecian share 

A rival place ? 



15 Hundreds. 

16 Fine 

17 Learning. 

18 None. 

19 More. 

20 Blow. 



1 From. 


8 Song. 


2 'Mong. 


9 Little. 


3 Idle stories. 


10 Dwarf. 


4 Oft. 


11 Who. 


5 Devotees. 


12 Bniads. 


6 Along. 


13 ir.cks. 


7 One. 


14 Sparkling. 



ROBERT BURNS. 583 

6. 

Yes ! there is ane ; a Scottish callan !^ 
There's ane; come forrit,^ honest Allan !* 
Thou need na^ jouk behint the hallan, 

A chiel'* sae' clever ; 
The teeth o' time may gnaw Tamtallanjt 

But thou's for ever. 

7. 
Thou paints auld^ nature to the nines, 
In thy sweet Caledonian lines ; 
Nae gowden^ stream thro' myrtles twines. 

Where Philomel, 
While nightly breezes sweep the vines, 

Her grief will tell ! 

8. 
In gowany* glens thy burnie^ strays, 
Where bonnie lasses bleach their claes !** 
Or trots by hazelly shavvs and braes," 

Wi' hawthorne gray, 
Where blackbirds join the shepherd's lays 

At close o' day. 

9. 
Thy rural loves are nature's sel ;" 
Nae bombast spates" o' nonsense swell; 
Nae snap^"* conceits, but that sweet spell 

O' witchin' love, 
That charm, that can the strongest quell, 

The sternest move. 



1 StripVing. 


5 So. 


10 Clothes, 


2 Forward. 


6 Old. 


11 Banks. 


3 No( shrink behind 


7 No golden. 


12 Self. 


the screen. 


8 Daisy dales. 


13 Swollen streams. 


4 Man. 


9 Rivulet. 


14 Momentary. 



• The celebrated Allan Ramsay, author of the Gentle Shepherd, a justly 
admired Scottish Pastoral. 

f An ancient crtstle, wliich stands about two miles distant from Ber- 
wick, on a high rock, surrounded on three sides by the sea, and on the fourth 
by a deep fosse, with a draw-bridge. 



584 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

EPITAPH 
ON A CELEBRATED RULING ELDER. 

HERE Souter **** in death does sleep : 

To h-!l, if he's gane' thither, 
Satan, gie^ him thy ^ear^ to keep, 

He'll haud^ it weeF thegither. 

1 Gone. 3 Wealth. 5 Well together. 

2 Give. 4 Hold. 

VERSES 

ON SEEING HIS FAVOURITE WALKS DESPOILED 

1. 

AS on the banks o' wanderinsf Nith, 
Ae^ smihng simmer^ morn I stray'd, 
And trac'd its boniiy howms' and haiighs,^ 
Where linties* sang, and lannbkins play'd. 

2. 
I sat me down upon a crai.2:,^ 
And drank my fill o' fancy's dream ; 
When from the eddying deep below 
Up rose the genius of the stream. 

3. 
Dark like the frowning rock his brow, 
And troubled like, his wintry wave ; 
And, deep as sut^hs,' the boding wind 
Among his caves, the sigh he gave. 

4. 
" And came ye here, my son, he cried, 
To wander in my birken^ shade, 
To muse some favourite Scottish theme, 
Or sing some favourite Scottish maid ? 



1 One. 


4 Meadows. 


7 Whistles, 


■2 Slimmer. 


5 Linnets. 


S Birchen. 


3 Valleys. 


6 Crag. 





ROBERT BURNS. 585 

5. 
There was a time, its nae^ lang syne, 
Ye might hae^ seen me in my pride ; 
When a' my banks sae^ bravely saw 
Their woody pictures in my tide ; 

6. 
When hanging beech and spreading elm 
Shaded my stream sae clear and cool, 
And stately aiks"* their twisted arms 
Threw broad and dark across the pool ; 

7. 
When, glinting* through the trees, appeared 
That wee^ white cot aboon^ the mill, 
And peacefu' rose its ingle* reek 
That slowly curled up the hill. 

8. 
But now the cot is bare and cauld,^ 
Its branchy shelters lost and gane,*" 
And scarce a stinted birk" is left, 
To shiver in the blast its lane.''^^ 

9. 
" Alas ! said I, what ruefu' chance 
Has twinM^^ ye o' your stately trees ? 
Has laid your rocky bosom bare ? 
Has stripped the cleading^" o' your braes V^ 

10. 
Was it the bitter eastling blast 
That scatters blight in early spring. 
Or was't the wilfire^* scorchM their boughs? 
Or canker-worm wi' secret sting ?" 

11. 

" Nae" eastlin blast, the sprite replied, 
It blew na^^ here sae fierce and fell ; 



I Not long since. 


7 Above. 


13 Bereft, 


2 Have. 


8 Fire. 


1* Clothing, 


3 So. 


9 Cold, 


15 Banks. 


4 Oaks. 


10 Gone. 


16 Wildfire. 


5 Glanciog. 


11 Birch. 


17 No. 


6 Little. 


12 Lone. 


18 Not. 



4 E 



586 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

And on my dry and halesome^ banks 
Nae canker-worms get leave to dwell.' 

12. 
Man ! — cruel man! — The Genius sigh'd, 
As throui^h the cliffs he sank him doun, 
The worm that gna\A M my bonny trees, 
That reptile wears a ducal crown !" 

1 Wholesome. 



MONODY ON A LADY FAMED FOR HER 
CAPRICE. 

1. 
HOW cold is that bosom which folly once fired, 
How pale is that cheek where the rouge lately glis- 
tened ; 
How silent that tongue which the echoes oft tired, 
How dull is that ear which to fiatt'ry so listened. 

2. 
If sorrow and ana^uish their exit await, 

From friendship and dearest affection removed | 
How doubly severer, Eliza, thy fate, 

Thou diedst unwept, as thou livedst unloved. 

3. 
Loves, graces, and virtues, I call not on you, 

So shy, grave and distant, ye shed not a tear : 
But come, all ye offspring of folly so true. 

And flowers let us cull for Eliza's cold bier. 

4. 
We'll search through the garden for each silly flower. 
We'll ro^m through the forest for each idle weed ; 
But chiefly the nettle, so typical, shower. 

For none e'er approached her but rued the rash 
deed, 

5. 
We'll sculpture the marble, we'll measure the lay^ 
Here vanity strums on her idiot lyre ; 



ROBERT BURNS. 587 

There keen indij^natioii shall dart on her prey, 
Which spurning contempt shall redeem from his 
ire. 

THE EPITAPH. 

HERE lies, now a prey to insulting neglect, 
What once was a butterfly, gay in life's beam : 

Want only of wisdom denied her respect, 
Want only of goodness denied her esteem. 

TO ROBERT GRAHAM, ESQ. OF FINTRA, 

ON RECEIVING A FAVOUR. 
1. 

I CALL no goddess to inspire my strains, 
A fabled muse may suit a bard that feigns ; 
Friend of my life ! my ardent spirit burns, 
And all the tribute of my heart returns, 
For boons accorded, goodness ever new, 
The gift still dearer, as the giver you. 

2. 
Thou orb of day ! thou other paler light ! 
And all ye many sparkling stars of night ; 
If aught that giver from my mind efface ; 
If I that giver's bounty e'er disgrace ! 
Then roll to me, along your wand'ring spheres, 
Only to number out a villain's years ! 



A TOAST. 

At a meeting of the Dumfrieshire Volunteers, held to com- 
memorate the anniversary of Rodney's Victory, (April 
12th, 17S%) Burns was called upon for a song, instead of 
which he delivered the following lines extempore. 



INSTEAD of a song, boys, I'll give you a toast, 
Here's the memory of those on the twelfth that we lost; 
That we lost, did I say, nay by hcav'n that we found, 
For their fame it shall last while the world goes round. 



588 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

The next in succession Pll give you the king, 
Whoe'er would betray him, on high mav he swing ; 
AiiCi here's the grand fabric, our free constitution, 
As built on the base of the great revolution ; 
And longer n 'th politics, not to be cramm'd, 
Be anarchy curbM, and be tyranny damn'd ; 
All'] u ho would to liberty e'er prove disloyal, 
May his son be a hangman, and he his first trial. 



LINES WPaTTEN AND PRESENTED TO 
MRS. KEMBLE, 

ON SEEING HER IN THE CHARACTER OF YARICO. 

KEMBLE, thou cur'st my unbelief 

Of Moses and his rod ; 
At Yarico's sweet notes of grief, 

The rock with tears had flow'd. 



VERSES WRITTEN UNDER THE PORTRAIT 
OF FERGLSSON, THE POET. 

CURSE on ungrateful man, that can be pleas'd, 
And yet can starve the author of the pleasure. 
O thou my elder brother in misfortune, 
By far my elder brother in the muses, 
With tears I pity thy unhappy fate ! 
Why is the bard unpitied by the world, 
Yet has so keen a relish of its pleasures ! 

HIC JACET WEE JOHNIE. 

WHOE'ER thou art, O reader know, 
That death has murder'd Johnnie I 

An' here his bodi/ lies fu'^ low 

For saul^ he ne'er had ony.^ 

1 Full. 2 Soul. 3 Any. 



ROBERT BURNS. 589 

ON VIEWING THE PALACE OF HOLY-ROOD- 
HOUSE, 

THE RESIDENCE OP THE KINGS OF SCOTLAND. 
1. 

WITH awe-struck thought, and pitying tears, 

I view that noble, stately dome. 
Where Scotia's kings, of other years, 

Fam'd heroes ! had their royal home. 

2. 
Alas ! how chang'd, the times to come, 

Their royal name, low in the dust ; 
Their hapless race, wild-wand'ring roam, 

Though rigid law cries out, " 'twas just." 

3. 
Wild beats my heart, to trace your steps, 

Whose ancestors in days of yore, 
Through hostile ranks, and ruin'd gaps, 

Old Scotia's bloody lion bore. 

4. 
E'en I who sing in rustic lore. 

Haply my sires have left their shed. 
And fac'd grim danger's loudest roar. 

Bold following where your fathers led. 

IMPROMPTU ON MRS. DUNLOP'S BIRTH-DAY, 

4th Nov. 1793. 

1. 

OLD winter with his frosty beard, 
Thus once to Jove his prayer preferr'd ; 
What have I done of all the year. 
To bear this hated doom severe ? 
My cheerless suris no pleasure know ; 
Night's horrid car drags, dreary, slow : 
My dismal months no joys are crowning, 
But spleeny English, hanging, drowning. 



590 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

2. 
Now Jove for once be mighty civil, 
To counterbalcjnce all this evil; 
Give me, and I've no more to say, 
Give me Maria's natal day ! 
Tluit brilliant gift will so enrich me, 
Spring, summer, autumn, cannot match me; 
'Tis done ! says Jove ; so ends my story, 
And winter once rejoic'd in glory. 



EPITAPH FOR GAVIN HAMILTON, ESQ. 

THE poor man weeps— here Gavi?i sleeps, 
Whom cantinaj wretches blam'd: 

But with such OS he, where'er he be, 
Maj 1 be sav'd or d d/ 



ELEGY ON THE DEATH OF ROBERT RUIS- 
SEAUX.^ 

1. 

NOW Robin lies in his last lair. 
He'll gabble rhyme, nor sing nae mair,* 
Cauld^ poverty wi' hungry stare, 

Nae mair shall fear him ; 
Nor anxious fear, nor canker't care 

E'er mair come near him. 

2. 
To tell the truth, they seldom fash't^ him. 
Except the moment that they crush't him ; 
For soon as chance or fate had hush't 'em 
Tho' e'er sae'* short. 
Then wi' a rhyme or song he lash't em 

And thought it sport. — 

1 No more. 2 Cold. 3 Troubled. 4 So. 

• Ruisseaux — a play on his own name. 



ROBERT BURNS. 591 

3. 
Tho' he was bred to kintra^ wark, 
And counted was baith* wight and stark,^ 
Yet that was never Robin's mark 

To mak"* a man ; 
But tell him, he was learn'd and dark, 
Ye roos'd* him then ! 

1 Country work. S Stout. 5 Praised. 

2 Both. 4 Make. 



EXTEMPORE, 

On the late Mr. William Smellie, author of the Philosophy 
of Natural History, and Member of the Antiquarian, and 
Royal Societies of Edinburgh. 

TO Crochallan came* 
The old cock'd hat, the grey siirtout the same ; 
His bristling beard just rising in its might, 
'Twas four long nights and days to shaving-night, 
His uncomb'd grizzliy locks wild staring, thatch'd, 
A head for thought profound and clear, unmatch'd ; 
Yet tho' his caustic wit was biting, rude. 
His heart was warm, benevolent and good. 

• Mr. Smellie, and our poet, were both members of a club in Edinburgb, 
under the name ot Crochallan Fencibles. 



POETICAL INSCRIPTION. 



AN ALTAR TO INDEPENDENCE, 

AT KERROUCHTRY, THE SEAT OF MR. HERON— WRITTEN 
IN SUMMER 1795. 

THOU of an independent mind. 
With soul resolv'd, with soul resigned; 
Prepar'd power's proudest frown to brave, 
Who wilt not be, nor have a slave ; 
Virtue alone who dost revere, 1 

Thy own reproach alone dost fear, > 

Approach this shrine, and worship here. } 



592 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

LINES SENT TO A GENTLEMAN WHOM HE 
HAD ObFENDED. 

1. 

THE friend whom wild from wisdom's way, 
The fumes of wines infuriate send ; 

(Not moony madness more astray) 

Who but deplores that helpless friend ? 

2. 
Mine was th' insensate frenzied part, 

Ah, why should I such scenes outlive ! 
Scenes so abhorrent to my heart ! 

'Tis thine to pity and forgive. 



LINES 



Composed and repeated by Burns, to the Master of the house, 
on taking leave at a place in the Highlands where he had 
been hospitably entertained. 



WHEN death's dark stream I ferry o'er^ 
A time that surely shall come ; 

In heaven itself, I'll ask no more, 
Than just a Highland welcome. 



SONNET, 

ON THE DEATH OF ROBERT RIDDEL, ESQ. 

Of Glen-Riddel.— 49n7, 1794. 

1. 

NO more, ye warblers of the wood, no more, 
Nor pour your descant, grating, on my soul : 
Thou, young-eyed Spring, gay in thy verdant stole, 

More welcome were to me grim Winter's wildest 
roar. 



ROBERT BURNS. 593 

2. 
How can ye charm, ye fiow'rs, with all your dyes? 
Ye blow upon the sod that wraps my friend; 
How can I to the tuneful strain attend ? 
That strain floNvs round th' untimely tomb where 
Riddel lies.* 

3. 

YeSj pour, ye warblers, pour the notes of woe, 
And sooth the virtues weeping on this bier; 
The Man of IVorth, and has not left his peer, 

Is in his " narrow house'- for ever darkly low. 

Thee, Spring, again with joy shall others greet ; 
Me, mem'ry of my loss will only meet. 

• Robert Riddel, Esq. of Friars' Carse, a very worthy character, and one 
to whom our bard thought himself under many obligations. It is a curious 
circumstance, that the tivo concluding lines express a sentiment exactly simi- 
lar to one of the most beautiful passages in the " Pastor Fido," from tli<- 7th 
to (he 10th line of the monologue, at the opening of the third Act ; yet Burns 
had no acquaintance with Guarini's work. Feeling dictates to genius in all 
ages, and all countries, and her language must be often the same. 



SONNET, 

Written on the 25th January, 1793, the birth-day of the 
author, on hearing a Thrush sing, in a morning walk. 

1. 
SING on sweet thrush, upon the leafless bough, 

Sing on, sv.eet bird, I listen to thy strain ; 

See aged Winter 'mid his surly reign. 
At thy blithe carol clears his furrow'd brow. 

2. 

So in lone Poverty's dominion drear. 

Sits meek Content with light, unanxious heart. 
Welcome the rapid moments — bids them part, 

Nor asks if they bring ought to hope or fear. 

3. 
I thank thee. Author of this opening day ! 

Thou, whose bright sun now gilds yon orient skies ! 
4 F 



594 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

Riches denied, thy boon was purer joys, 
What weahh could never give nor take away ! 

Y(-t con.e, thou child of poverty and care, 
The mite high Heaven beslovv'd that mite with thee 
ril share. 



EPITAPH ON l^ERGUSSON. 

NO sculptured marble here, nor pompous lay, 
*' No storied urn nor animated bust ;" 

This simple stone directs pale Sc(3tia's way, 
To pour her sorrows o'er her poet's dust. 



ON SENSIBILITY. 
TO MRS. DUNLOP, OF DUNLOP. 

1. 
SENSIBILITY how charming, 

Thou^ my friend, canst truly tell : 
But distress with horrors arming, 

Thou hast also known too well 1 

2. 
Fairest flower, behold the lily, 

Blooming in the sunny ray : 
Let the blast sweep o'er the valley, 

See it prostrate on the clay. 

3. 
Hear the woodlark charm the forest, 

Telling o'er his little joys : 
Hapless bird ! a prey the surest, 

To each pirate of the skies. 

4. 
Dearly bought the hidden treasure. 

Finer feelings can bestow : 
Chords that vibrate sweetest pleasure. 

Thrill the deepest notes of woe. 



ROBERT BURNS. 595 



EXTEMPORE. 

To Mr. Syme. — On refusing to dine with him, after having 
been promised the first of company, and the first of cook- 
ery. — 1 7th December, 1795. 

NO more of your guests, be they titled or not, 

And cook'ry, the first in the nation ; 
Who is proof to thy personal converse and wit, 

Is proof to all otfier temptation. 



TO MR. SYME, WITH A PRESENT OF A DOZEN OF PORTER, 

O HAD the malt thy strength of mind, 

Or hops the flavour of thy wit ; 
'Tuere drink for first of human kind, 

A gift that e'en for Syme were fit. 

EPITAPH ON llOLY WILLIE. 

1. 
HERE Holy Willie's sair^ worn clay 

Taks^ up its last abode ; 
His sauP has ta'en some other way, 

I fear, the left hand road. 

2. 
Stop ! there he is as sure's a gun, 

Poor silly body see him ; 
Nae^ wonder he's as black the grun,* 

Observe wha's^ standing wi' him. 

3. 
Your brunstane' devil ship I see 

Has gotten him there before ye ; 
But haud^ your nine-tail cat a wee ;' 

'Till ance you've heard my story. 

1 Sore. 4 No. 7 Brimstone. 

2 Takes. 5 Ground. 8 Hold. 

3 Soul. 6 Who is. 9 Little. 



596 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

4. 
Your pity I will not implore, 

For pity ye have nane ;^ 
Justice, alas ! has gi'cii^ him o'er, 

And mercy's day is gaen.' 

5. 

But hear me. Sir, deil as ye are, 
Look something to your credit; 

A coof'* like him vvou'd stain your name, 
If it were kent^ ye did it. 

1 None. 3 Gone. 5 Known. 

2 Giving. 4 Blockhead. 



LIMES 

WRITTEN ON THE WINDOWS OF THE GLOBE TAVERN, 
DUMFRIES. 

1. 

I MURDER hate by field or flood, 
Tho' glory's name may screen us ; 

In wars at hame I'll spend my blood, 
Life-giving wars of Venus. 

2. 
The deities that I adore, 

Are social peace and plenty, 
I'm better pleas'd to make one morCj 

Than by the death of twenty. 



MY bottle is a holy pool, 

That heals the wounds o' care an' dool ; 

And pleasure is a wanton trout. 

An' ye drink it, ye'll find him out. 



IN politics if thou would'st mix, 
And mean thy fortunes be ; 

Bear this in mind, be deaf and blind, 
Let great folks hear and see. 



ROBERT BURNS. 597 



EPIGRAM. 



Burns, accompanied by a friend, having gone to Inverary at 
a time when some company were there on a visit to his 
Grace the Duke of Argyle, finding himself and his compa- 
nion entirely neglected by the Inn -keeper, whose whole 
attention seemed to be occupied with the visitors of his 
Grace, expressed his disapprobation of the incivility with 
wliich they were treated in the following lines : 

1. 
WHOIL'ER he be that sojourns here, 

I pity much his case, 
Unl':;ss he come to wait upon 

The Lord their God, his grace. 

2. 

There's naething here but Highland pride, 
And Highland scab and hunger ; 

If Providence has sent me here, 
'Twas surely in an anger. 



TO DR. MAXWELL, 

ON MISS JESSY STAIG'S RECOVERY, 

MAXWELL, if merit here you crave, 

That merit I deny : 
You save fair Jessie from the grave ! 

An angel could not die. 



EPITAPH ON D C— 

HERE lies in earth a root of H-11, 
Set by the Dell's ain dibble ; 

This worthless body damn'd himsel, 
T© save the Lord the trouble. 



598 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

THE CALF. 

TO THE REV. MR. 

On fits Text, Malachi, ch. iv. ver. 2. " And they shall go forth, and grow up 
like Calves of the stall."* 

1. 

RIGHT, Sir ! your text I'll prove it true, 

Though heretics may laugh ; 
For instance ; there's yoursel just now, 

God knows, an unco Calf! 

2. 
And should some patron be so kind, 

As bless you wi' a kirk, 
I doubt na, Sir, but then we'll find, 

Ye're still as great a Stirk. 

3. 
But, if the lover's raptur'd hour 

Shall ever be your lot, 
Forbid it, every heavenly power, 

You e'er should be a Stotf 

4. 
Tho', when some kind, connubial dear, 

Your but-and-ben adorns. 
The like has been that you may wear 

A noble head of horns. 

5. 

And in your lug, most reverend James^ 

I'o hear you roar and rowte. 
Few men o' sense will doubt your claims 

To rank amang the nowte, 

6. 
And when ye're number'd wi' the dead, 

Below a grassy hillock, 
Wi' justice they may mark your head — 

* Here lies a famous bullock,^ 

* The Poet had been with Mr. Gavin Hamilton in the morning, who said 
jocular/) to him when he was going to church, in allusion to the injunction of 
some par-fiits to their children, that he must be sure to bring him a note of the 
se' mon at rs id-day ; this address to the Reverend Gentleman on bis text was 
accordingly produced. 



ROBERT BURNS. 599 

LINES ADDRESSED TO MR. JOHN RANKEN. 

[The person to whom his Poem on shooting the Partridge is 
addressed, while he occupied the Farm of AdamhiU in 
Ayrshire.] 

AE' day as death, that grusome'^ carle, 

Was driving to the tither^ vvarl', 

A mixtie-maxtie" motel)' squad, 

And mony* a guilt bespotted lad ; 

Black gowns of each denomination, 

And thieves of every rank and station, 

Fnmi him that wears the star and garter 

To hin that vvintles^ in a halter ; 

Asham'd himself to see the" wretches, 

He mutters. glo\\'ring' at the b — es, 

« By G — I'il not be'seen behint' them, 

" Nor 'mang^ the spiritual crops present them, 

" Without, at least ae honest man, 

•' To ()race this damn'd infernal clan." 

By Adamhill a dance he threw, 

** L— -d, G-d!" quoth he, " 1 have it now, 

" There's just the man I want, in faith," 

And quickly stopped Ranken's breath. 

1 One. 4 Confused. 7 Staring. 

2 Ghastly. 5 Many. 8 Behind. 

3 Other world. 6 Staggers. 9 'Mong. 



THE HENPECKD HUSBx\ND. 

CURS'D be the man the poorest wretch in life, 

The crouching vassal to the tyrant wife, 

Who has no will but by her permission ! 

Who has not sixpence but in her high possession; 

Who must to her his dear friend's secret tell ; 

Who dreads a curtain lecture worse than hell. 

Were such the wife had fallen to my pirt, 

I'd break her spirit, or Pd break her heart : 

I'd charm her v\ ith the magic of a switch, 

I'd kiss her maids, and kick the perverse b— h. 



600 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

EPITAPH 
ON A HENPECK'D COUNTRY SQUIRE. 

AS father Adam first was fool'd, 
A case that's still too common, 
Here lies a man a noman rul'd, 
The devil rulM the woman. 



EPIGRAM ON SAID OCCASION. 

O DE /VTH, hadst thou but spar'd his life, 

Whom we, this day lament ! 
We freely wad exchang'd the wifcy 

And a' been weel content. 



LINES 

"Written on a window, at the King's Arms Tavern, Dumfries. 

YE men of wit and wealth, why all this sneering, 

'Gainst poor Excisemen ? give the cause a hearing; 
What are your landlords rent-rolls ? taxing ledgers: 
What premiers, what? even Monarchs' mighty 
gangers : 
Nay, what are priests? those seeming godly wise- 
men : 
What are they pray ? but spiritual Excisemen* 



LINES 

Written under the picture of the celebrated Miss Burns, 

CEASE ye prudes, your envious railing, 
Lovely Burns has charms — confess ; 

True it is, she had one failing. 
Had ae woman ever less ? 



ROBERT BURNS. 601 

ADDRESS 

TO AN ILLEGITIMATE CHILD. 

1. 
THOU'S welcome wean,^ mishanter^ fa' me, 
If ought of thee, or of thy mammy, 
Shall ever danton^ me, or awe me, 

My sweet wee"* lady, 
Or if I blush when thou shalt ca' me 

Tit-ta or daddv. 

2. 
Wee image of my bonny Betty, 
I, fatherly will kiss and daut* thee. 
As dear an' near my heart I set thee 

Wi' as gude^ will 
As a' the priests had seen me get thee 

That's out o' hell. 

3. 
What tho' they ca' me fornicator, 
An' tease my name in kintry' clatter : 
The mair^ they tauk^ I'm kent^° the better, 

E'en let them clash ;" 
An auld^^ wife's tongue's a feckless^' matter 

To gie^'* ane fash. 

4. 
Sweet fruit o' mony" a merry dint,^^ 
My funny toil is now a' tint.^'' 
Sin'^^ thou came to the warl*^ asklent. 

Which fools may scoff at ; 
In my last plack^° thy part's be in't. 

The better ha'f o't. 



1 Child. , 


8 More. 




15 Many. 


2 Misfortune befal. 


9 Talk. 




16 Op|>ortuni(y. 


3 Daunt. 


10 Known. 




17 Lost. 


4 Little. 


11 Prattle. 




18 Since. 


5 Fondle. 


12 Oid. 




19 World asquint. 


6 Good. 


13 Feeble. 




20 Fraction. 


7 Couiilry. 


14 Give one 


trouble. 





4 G 



602 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

5. 
An' if thou be what I wacP hae thee, 
An' tak^ the counsel I salF gie thee, 
A lovin' father I'll be to thee, 

If thou be spar'd ; 
Thro' a' thy childish years I'll e'e^ thee, 

An' think't weel* vvar'd. 

6. 

Glide grant that thou may ay* inherit 
Thy mither's^ person, grace an' merit. 
An' thy poor worthless daddy's spirit, 

Without his failin's, 
'Twill please me mair to hear an' see't, 

Than stocket' mailens. 



1 Would have. 


4 Eye. 


7 Mother's 


■■Z Take. 


5 Well-bestowed. 


8 Stocked lanns. 


3 Shall. 


6 Always. 





EPITAPH ON A WAG IN MAUCHLINE. 

1. 
LAMENT him Mauchline husbands a', 

He aften^ did assist ye ; 
For had ye staid whole weeks awa,* 

Your wives they ne'er had miss'd ye. 

2. 
Ye Mauchline bairns,^ as on ye pass 

To school in bands thegither,'* 
O tread ye lightly on his grass. 

Perhaps he was your father. 

1 Often. 2 Away. 3 Children. 4 Together. 



ODE TO LIBERTY. 

The subject lof the following poem of liberty ; was design- 
ed as an irregular Ode for General Washington's birth 
day. After mentioning the degeneracy of other kingdoms, 
the author comes to Scotland thus : — 



ROBERT BURNS. 603 

THEE, Caledonia, thy uild heaths among, 
Thee, fam'd for martial deed and sacred song, 

To thee I turn with swimming eyes; 
Where is that soul of freedom fled? 
Imniingled with the miglity dead ! 

Beneath that hallowed turf where Wallace lies ! 
Hear it not, Wallace, in thy bed of death! 

Ye babbling winds, in silence weep ; 

Disturb not ye the hero's sleep, 
Nor give the coward secret breath. — 

Is this the power in freedom's war 

That wont to bid the batde rage ? 
Behold that eye which shot immortal hate, 
^ Crushing the despot's proudest bearing, 
That arm, which, nerved with thundering fate, 

Braved usurpation's boldest daring! 
One quenched in darkness like the sinking star, 
And one the palsied arm of tottering, powerless age. 



ON REMORSE, 

Written after Reading Smith's Theory of Moral Sentiments. 

OF all the numerous ills that hurt our peace. 

That press the soul, or wring the mind with anguish, 

Beyond comparison the worst are those 

That to our folly or our guilt we owe. 

In every other circumstance the mind 

Has this to say — " It was no deed of mine ;" 

But when to all the evil of misfortune 

This sting is added — *J Blame thy foolish self I" 

Or worser far, the pangs of keen remorse ; 

The torturing, gnawing consciousness of guilt — 

Of guilt, perhaps, where we've involved others ; 

The young, the innocent, who fondly lov'd us, 

Nay, more, that very love their cause of ruin! 

O burning hell ! in all thy store of torments, 

There's not a keener lash I 



604 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

Lives there a man so firm, who, while his heart 
Feels all the bitter horrors of his crime, 
Can reason down its agonizing throbs ; 
And, after proper purposes of amendment, 
Can firmly force his jarring thoughts to peace ? 
O happy ! happy ! enviable man ! 
O glorious magnanimity of soul ! 



THE RIGHTS OF WOMAN, 

An Occasional Address spoken bj Miss Fontenelle on her 
Benefit Night. 

WHILE Europe's eye is fixed on mighty things, 
The fate of empires and the fall of kings ; 
While quacks of state must each produce his plan, 
And even children lisp the Rights of Man; 
Amid this mighty fuss, just let me mention. 
The Rights of JVoman merit some attention. 

First, in the sexes' intermixed connexion, 
One sacred Right of Woman is — protection. 
The tender flower that lifts its head, elate. 
Helpless, must fall before the blasts of fate, 
Sunk on the earth, defac'd its lovely form. 
Unless your shelter ward th' impending storm. 

Our second Right — but needless here is caution, 
To keep that right inviolate's the fashion. 
Each man of sense has it so full before him. 
He'd die before he'd wrong it — 'tis decorum. — 
There was, indeed, in far less polish'd days, 
A time, when rough rude man had naughty ways ; 
Would swagger, swear, get drunk, kick up a riot, 

Nay, even thus, invade a lady's quit 

Now, thank our stars ! these Gothic times are fled ; 
Now, well-bred men — and you are all well-bred — 
Most justly think (and we are much the gainers) 
Such conduct neither spirit, wit, nor manners.* 

* Ironical allusion to the saturnalia of the Cakdonimi Hunt, 



ROBERT BURNS. 605 

For Right the third, our last, or best, our dearest, 
That Right to fluttering female hearts the nearest ; 
Which even the Rights of Kings in low prostration 
Most humbly own — 'tis dear, dear admiration!/ 
In that blest sphere alone we live and move ; 
There taste that life of life — ienmortal love. — 
Smiles, glances, sighs, tears, fits, flirtations, airs, 
'Gainst such an host what flinty savage dares — 
When awful beauty joins with all her charms. 
Who is so rash as rise in rebel arms ! 

But truce with kings, and truce with constitutions, 
With bloody armaments and revolutions ; 
Let Majesty your first attention summon, 
jih! caira! the Majesty of Woman! 



EPITAPH 

FOR THOMAS H. KENNEDY, NOW OF NEW YORK.* 

AS Tarn the chapman^ on a day, 

Wi' death forgather'd^ by the way, 

WeeF pleas'd, he greets a wight sae* famous. 

And death was nae* less pleas'd wi' Thomas, 

Wha*^ cheerfully lays down the pack. 

And there blaws^ up a hearty crack,* 

His social friendly honest heart, 

Sae tickled death they could na^ part, 

Sae after viewing knives an' garters 

Death taks^° him hame" to gie^^ him quarters. 



1 Hawker. 


5 No. 


9 Not. 


3 Met. 


6 Who. 


10 Takes. 


3 Well. 


7 Blows. 


11 Home. 


4 So. 


8 Conversation. 


12 Give. 



* Mr. Kennedy who was formerly a travelling pedlar in Scotland, and an 
intimate triund of our author; — had been sick when the above epitaph was 
wrote. 



606 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

ELEGY ON THE YEAR 1788. 

A SKEI-CH. 

FOR lords or kin_^s I dinna' mourn, 
E'en let them die — for that they're born : 
But oh ! prodigious to reflec'! 
A Towmont^ Sirs, is gane^ to wreck ! 
O Eighty-eight, in thy sma'** space 
What dire events hae* taken place ! 
Of what enjoyments thou hast 'reft us ! 
In what a pickle thou hast left us ! 

The Spanish, empire's tint" a head, 
An' my auld^ tuthless bawtie's^ dead ; 
The tulzie's^ sair 'tween Pitt and Fox, 
And 'tween our Maggie's twa^'* wee cocks : 
The tane" is game, a bluidy^^ devil, 
But to the hen-birds unco^^ civil ; 
The tither's" something dour" o' treadin', 
But better stuff ne'er claw'd a midden — "^ 

Ye ministers come mount the pupit," 
An' cry till ye be hearse^^ an' roupit, 
For Eighty-eight he wish'd you vveel,^^ 
An' gied^° you a' baith^* gear^^ an' meal ; 
E'en mony^' a plack,^"* and mony a peck, 
Ye ken^* yoursels, for little feck !— ^ 

Ye bonnie lassies dight^' your e'en, 
For some o' you ha'e tint a frien' ; 
In Eighty-eight ye ken, was ta'en 
What ye'il ne'er hae to gie^^ again. 



I Do not. 


11 One. 


20 Gave. 


2 Twelvemonth. 


12 Bloody. 


21 Both. 


3 Gone. 


13 Very. 


22 Wealth. 


4 Small. 


14 Other is. 


23 Many. 


5 Have. 


15 Shy. 


24 Small Scotch coin 


6 Lost. 


16 Dunghill. 


25 Know yourselvjes. 


7 Old. 


17 Pulpit. 


26 Value. 


8 Dog. 


18 Hoarse and sore. ^ 


27 Wipe your eyes. 


9 Quarrel is sore. 


19 Well. ^ 


28 Give. 


10 Two little. 







ROBERT BURNS. 6or 

Observe the vera nowt^ an' sheep, 
How dovvf ^ and daiverly they creep ; 
Nay, even the yirth^ itsel does cry, 
For E'nburgh* wells are.grutren* dry. 

O Eighty-nine^ thou's but a bairn,* 

An' no^ owre auld, I hope, to learn ! 

Thou beardless boy, I pray tak^ (!^re, 

Thou now has got thy Daddy's chair, 

Nae^ hand-cuff'd mizl'd^° hap-shackl'd Regent, 

But, like himsel,^^ a full free agent. 

Be sure ye follow out the plan ^ 

Nae^^ waur than he did, honest man ! > 

As muckle^^ better as you can. 3 

1 Oxen. 6 Infant. 10 Muzzled, 

2 Dull and stupidly. 7 Not too old. 11 Himself. 

3 Earth itself. 8 Take. 12 Not worse'. 

4 Edinburgh. 9 No. 13 Much. 

5 Weeped. 



ADDRESS. 

Spoken by Miss Fontenelle, on her Benefit Night, 
Dec. 4, 1795, at the Theatre, Dumfries. 

STILL anxious to secure your partial favour, 
And not less anxious, sure, this night, than ever, 
A Prologue, Epilogue, or some such matter, 
'Twould vamp my bill, said I, if nothing better ; 
So, sought a Poet, roosted near the skies, 
Told him I came to feast my curious eyes ; 
Said, nothing like his works was ever printed ; 
And last, my prologue-business slily hinted. 
*' iMa'am let me tell you," quoth my man of rhymes, 
*' I know your bent — these are no laughing times : 
Can you — but Miss, I own I have my fears. 
Dissolve in pause — and sentimental tears — 
With laden sighs, and solemn-rounded sentence, 
Rouse from his sluggish slumbers, fell Repentance ; 



608 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

Paint Vengeance, as he takes his horrid stand, ) 

Waving on high the desolating^ brand, > 

Calling the storms to bear him o'er a guilty land?" ) 

I could no more — askance the creature eyeing, 
D'ye think, said I, this face was made for crying? 
I'll laugh, that's poz — nay more, the world shall 

know it; 
And so, your servant gloomy Master Poet ! 

Firm as my creed, Sirs, 'tis my fixed belief. 
That Misery's another word for Grief; 
I also think — so may I be a bride ! 
That so much laughter, so much life enjoy'd. 

Thou man of crazy care and ceaseless sigh, 
Still under bleak Misfortune's blasting eye ; 
Doom'd to that sorest task of man alive — 
To make three guineas do the work of five : 
Laugh in Misfortune's face-^the beldam witch 
Say, you'll be merry, tho' you can't be rich. 

Thou other man of care, the wretch in love. 
Who long with jiltish arts and airs hast strove ; 
Who, as the boughs all temptingly project, 
Measur'st in desperate thought— a rope — thy neck — 
Or, where the beeding cliff o'erhangs the deep, 
Peerest to meditate the healing leap : 
Would'st thou be cur'd, thou silly moping elf? 
Laugh at her follies — laugh e'en at thyself: 
Learn to despise those frowns now so terrific. 
And love a kinder — that's your grand specific. 

To sum up all, be merry, I advise ; 
And as we're merry, may we still be wise. 



ROBERT BURNS. 



PROLOGUE 



Spoken by Mr. Sutherland, of Dumfries Theatre, 
on New Year's evening, 1790. 

NO song nor dance I bring from yon great city 
That queens it o'er our taste — the more's the pity : 
Tho' by the bye, abroad why will you roam ? 
Good sense and taste are natives here at home ; 
But not for panegyric I appear, 
I come to wish you all a good new year ! 
Old Father Time deputes me here before ye, 
Not for to preach, but tell his simple story : 
The sage grave ancient cough'd, and bade me say, 
" You're one year older this important day," 
If wiser too — he hinted some suggestion, 
But 'twould be rude, you know, to ask the question : 
And with a would-be roguish leer and wink, 
He bade me on you press this one word — " think!" 

Ye sprightly youths, quite flush with hope and spirit, 
Who think to storm the world by dint of merit, 
To you the dotard has a deal to say. 
In his sly, dry, sententious, proverb way ! 
He bids you mind, amid your thoughtless rattle, 
That the first blow is ever half the batde ; 
That tho' some by the skirt may try to snatch him, 
Yet by the forelock is the hold to catch him ; 
That whether doing, suiFering, or forbearing, 
You may do miracles by persevering. 

Last, tho' not least in love, ye youthful fair, 
Angelic forms, high heaven's peculiar care ! 
To you old Bald-pate smooths his wrinkled brow, 
And humbly begs you'll mind th' important — now ! 
To crown your happiness he asks'your leave, 
And oflcrs, bliss to give and to receive. 

4h -^i 



610 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

For our sincere, tho' haply weak endeavours, 
With grateful pride we own your many favours 
And howsoe'er our tongues may ill reveal it, 
Believe our glowing bosoms truly feel it. 



THE TOAST. 

Written with a diamond Pencil on. a glass tumbler, and pre- 
sented to Miss Jessy Lewars, now Mrs. Thomson, of Dum- 
fries, a deservedly great favourite of the Poet's, and a 
kind and soothing friend to Mrs. Burns at the time of his 
death. 

FILL me with the rosy wine, 
Call a toast — a toast divine ; 
Give the Poet's darling fl ^me, 
Lovely Jessy be the name ; 
Then thou may'st freely boast, 
Thou hast given a peerless toast. 



EPITAPH ON THE SAME. 

On her complaining of some slight indisposition. Burns told 
her he should take care to have an Epitaph ready for her 
in case of the w^orst, which he likewise wrote on a glass 
tumbler, to make a pair with the other, as follows : 

SAY sages, what's the charm on earth, 

Can turn death's darts aside : 
It is not purity and worth, 

Else Jessy had not died. 



ON HER RECOVERY. 

BUT rarely seen since Nature's birth, 

The natives of the sky, 
Yet still one Seraph's left on earth, 

For Jessy did not die. 



ROBERT BURNS. 611 



TO THE SAME. 

About the end of May, 1796, Mr. Brown, (an unmarried 
man) the Surgeon who attended Burns in his last illness, 
happened to call on him at the same time with Miss Jessy 
Lewars. In the course of conversation, Mr. Brown men- 
tioned, that he had been to see a collection of wild beasts 
just arrived at Dumfries. By way of aiding his descrip- 
tion, he took the advertisement (containing a list of the 
animals to be exhibited) from his pocket. As he was about 
to hand it to Miss Lewars, the Poet took it out of his hand, 
and with some red ink standing beside him, wrote on the 
back of the advertisement the following lines, exclaiming 
as he returned it to Mr. Brown, that now it was fit to be 
presented to the lady. 

This advertisement, with the red lines on the back, is still 
in the possession of the lady, preserved as a precious 
Relique. 



1. 

TALK not to me of savages 
From Afric's burning sun, 

No savage e'er could rend my heart 
As, Jessy, thou hast done. 

2. 
But Jessy's lovely hand wi' mine, 

A mutual faith to plight, 
Not even to view the heav'nly choir 

Would be so blest a sight. 



EPITAPH. 

For Ml-. Gabriel Richardson, Brewer, Dumfries, (but who, 
much to the satisfaction of his friends, has not yet needed 
one, 1819.) 

HERE Brewer Gabriel's fire's extinct, 

And empty all his barrels : 
He's blest — if as he brew'd, he drink 

In upright honest morals. 



612 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 



WRITTEN WITH A PENCIL. 

Over the Chimney-piece in the Parlour of the Inn at Ken- 
more, Taymouth. 

ADMIRING Nature in her wildest ^race, 
These northern scenes with weary feet I trace ; 
O'er many a winding dale and painful steep, 
Th' abodes of covey'd grouse and timid sheep, 
My savage journey, curious I pursue. 
Till fam'd Breadalbane opens to my view. — 
The meeting cliffs each deep sunk glen divides, 
The woods, wild-scatter'd, clothe their ample sides : 
Th' outstretching lake, embosom'd 'mong the hills. 
The eye with wonder and amazement fills ; 
The Tay meandering sweet in infant pride, 
The palace rising on its verdant side ; 
The lawns wood-fring'd in Nature's native taste ; 
The hillocks dropt in Nature's careless haste ! 
The arches striding o'er the new-born stream ; 
The village, glittering in the noontide beam — 

****** 

Poetic ardours in my bosom swell, 

Lone wand'ring by the hermit's mossy cell : 

The sweeping theatre of hanging woods ; 

Th' incessant roar of headlong tumbling floods. — 

****** 

Here Poesy might wake her heav'n- taught lyre, 
And look through nature with creative fire; 
Here, to the wrongs of fate half reconcil'd 
Misfortune's lighien'd steps might wander wild; 
And Disappointment, in these lonely bounds, 
Find balm to sooth her bitter rankling wounds ; 
Here heart- struck Grief might heav'n ward stretch her 

scan. 
And injured Worth forget and pardon man. 



ROBERT BURNS. $13 



VERSES 

Written on the blank leaf of a copy of the last edition of his 
poems, presented to the lady, whom, in so many fictitious 
reveries of passion, but with the most ardent sentiments of 
real friendship, he has so often sung under the name of 
Chloris. 

1. 
'TIS Friendship's pled9;e, my young fair friend, 

Nor thou the gift refuse, 
Nor with unwilling ear attend 

The moralizing muse. 

2. 
Since thou, in all thy youth and charms, 

Must bid the world adieu, 
(A world 'gainst peace in constant arms) 

To join the friendly few. 

3. 
Since, thy gay morn of life's o'ercast, 

Chill came the tempest's lour ; 
(And ne'er misfortune's eastern blast 

Did nip a fairer flower.) 

4. 
Since life's gay scenes must charm no more. 

Still much is left behind ; 
Still nobler wealth hast thou in store — 

The comforts of the mind! 

5. 
Thine is the self-approving glow, 

On conscious honour's part; 
And dearest gift of heaven below, 

Thine, friendship's truest heart. 

6. 
The joys refined of sense and taste, 

With ev'ry muse to rove : 
And doubly were the poet blest 

These joys could he improve. 



614 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

ODE 

ON THE ANNIVERSARY OF THE BIRTH DAY OF 
PRINCE C. E, STUART. 

During the Author's residence in Edinburgh, in the winter 
of 1788, he was invited to attend a meeting, to celebrate 
the birth day of the lineal descendant of the Scottish race 
of kings, the late unfortunate Prince Charles Edward. On 
this occasion, our bard took upon himself the office of poet 
laureate, and produced the following Ode extempore. 

FALSE flatterer, Hope, away ! 
Nor think to lure us as in days of yore : 

We solemnize this sorrowing natal day, 
To prove our loyal truth — we can no more ; 

And, owning Heaven's mysterious sway, 
Submissive low, adore. 

Ye honoured mighty dead ! 
Who nobly perished in the glorious cause, 
Your king, your country, and her laws ! 

From great Dundee, who smiling victory led, 
And fell a martyr in her arms, 
(What breast of northern ice but warms ?) 

To bold Balmerino's undying name, 

Whose soul of fire, lighted at heav'ns high flame. 
Deserves the proudest wreath departed heroes claim.* 

Nor unreveng'd your fate shall be. 

It only lags the fatal hour ; 
Your blood shall with incessant cry 

Awake at last th' unsparing power. 
As from the cliff", with thundering course, 

The snovxy ruin smokes along, 
With doubling speed and gathering force, 
Till deep it crashing whelms the cottage in the vale! 
So vengeance * * * 

* In th< first f)age of this Ode there is some beautiful imagery, which the 
Poet aftrrwanls I'lteiwove in a happier manuer, in the ChevaUer's Lament, 
(See p^ige 489.) Bui if there were no other reasosis for omitting to punt the 
entire poeio, the want of originality wonli' he sufficient. A consiflwable part 
of ii is a kind of rant, foi which inrtecd pi-trct (!■ r.t maj be cited in various Other 
birth day odes, but with which it is impossible to go along. 



ROBERT BURNS. ' 615 



TRAGIC FRAGMENT. 

Burns in his early years attempted to write tragedy. The 
following fragment was an exclamation from a great cha- 
racter, generous, and daring — He is supposed to meet a 
child of misery, and exclaims to himself — 



*' ALL devil as I am, a damned wretch, 

A hardened, stubborn, unrepenting villain, 

Still my heart melts at human wretchedness ; 

And with sincere tho' unavailing sighs, 

I view the helpless children of distress. 

With tears indignant I behold th' oppressor 

Rejoicing in the honest man's destruction, 

Whose unsubmiting heart was all his crime. 

Even you, ye helpless crew, I pity you ; 

Ye, whom the seeming good think sin to pity ; 

Ye poor, despis'd, abandoned vagabonds, 

Whom vice, as usual, has turn'd o'er to ruin, 

— O, but for kind, tho' ill-requited friends, 

I had been driven forth like you forlorn. 

The most deserted, worthless wretch among you !" 



THE VOWELS— A TALE. 
'TWAS where the birch and sounding tliong are 

The noisy domicile of pedant pride ; 

Where ignorance her darkening vapour throws, 

And cruelty directs the thickening blows ; 

Upon a time, sir Abece the great, 

In all his pedagogic powers elate. 

His awful chair of state resolves to mount, 

And call the trembling vowels to account. — 

First entered A, a grave, broad, solemn wight, 
But, ah ! deform'd dishonest to the sight ! 
His twisted head look'd backward on his way, 
And flagrant from the scourge he grunted, ai f 



616 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

Reluctant, E stalk'd in ; with piteous race 
The justling tears ran down his honest face I 
That name, that well-worn name, and all his own» 
Pale he surrenders at the tyrani's throne ! 
The pedant stifles keen the Roman sound 
Not all his mongrel dipthongs can compound ; 
And next the title following close behind, 
He to the nameless ghastly wretch assigned. 

The cobweb'd gothic dome resounded, Y ! 
In sullen vengeance, I disdain'd reply : 
The pedant swung his felon cudgel round. 
And knocked the groaning vowel to the ground ! 

In rueful apprehension entered O, 

The wailing minstrel of despairing woe ; 

Th' inquisitor of Spain, the most expert, 

Might there have learnt new mysteries of his art : 

So grim, deform'd with horrors entering U, 

His dearest friend and brother scarcely knew ! 

As trembling U stood staring all aghast, 
The pedant in his left hand clutch'd him fast, 
In helpless infant's tears he dipp'd his right, 
Baptis'd him eu^ and kick'd him from his sight. 



AN EXTEMPORANEOUS EFFUSION. 

ON BEING APPOINTED TO THE EXCISE. 

SEARCHING auld^ wives' barrels, 

Och, oh ! the day ! 
That clarty^ barm should stain my laurels : 

But — what'U ye say ! 
These muvin'^ things ca'd'* wives and weans* 

Wad^ muve the very heart o' stanes !' 

1 Old. 4 Call'd. 6 Would move. 

3 Dirty. 5 Children. 7 Stones. 

3 MOTIDg. 



ROBERT BURNS. 617 



SKETCH. 

The following Sketch seems to be one of a series intended 
for a projected work, under the title of "The Poet's Pro- 
gress." This character was sent as a specimen, accompa- 
nied by a letter to Professor Dugald Stewart, in which it 
is thus noticed. — "The fragment beginning ' A little, up- 
right, tart, &c.' I have not shewn to any man living, till 
now I send it to you. It forms the postulata, the axioms, 
the definition of a character, which, if it appear at all, shall 
be placed in a variety of lights. This particular part I 
send you merely as a sample of my hand at portrait 
sketching. Burns. 



A LITTLE, upright, pert, tart, trippling wight, 
And still his precious self his dear delight ; 
Who loves his own smart shadow in the streets, 
Better than e'er the fairest she he meets. 
A man of fashion too, he made his tour, 
Learn'd vive la bagatelle, etvive P amour: 
So traveled monkies their grimace improve, 
Polish their grin, nay, sigh for ladies' love. 
Much specious lore, but little understood ; 
Fineering oft outshines the solid wood : 
His solid sense — by inches you must tell, 
But mete his cunning by the Scots' ell ; 
His meddling vanity, a busy fiend. 
Still making work his selfish craft must mend. 



SCOTS PROLOGUE, 

FOR MR. SUTHERLAND'S BENEFIT NIGHT, DUMFRIES^ 

WHAT needs this din about the town o' Lon'on, 
How this new play an' that new sang^ is comin': 
Why is outlandish stuff sae* meikle courted ? 
Does nonsense mend like whiskey, when imported f 
Is there nae^ poet, burning keen for fame. 
Will try to gie"* us sangs and plays at hame ?^ 

1 Song. 3 No. 5 Home. 

3 S'J much, 4 Give. 

4 I 



(il8 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

For comedy abroad he need na* toil, 
A fool and knave are plants of every soil ; 
Nor need he hunt as far as Rome and GreecCj 
To gather matter for a serious piece ; 
There's themes enough in Caledonian story, 
Would shew the tragic muse in a' her glory. — 

Is there no daring bard will rise, and tell 
How glorious Wallace stood, how hapless fell ? 
Where are the muses fled that could produce 
A drama worthy o' the name o' Bruce ; 
How here, even here, he first unsheath'd the sword 
'Gainst mighty ILngland and her guilty lord; 
And after mony^ a bloody, deathless doing, 
Wrench'd his dear country from the jaws of ruin? 
O for a Shakespeare or an Otvvay scene, 
To draw the lovely, hapless Scottish queen ! 
Vain all the omnipotence of female charms 
'Gainst headlong, ruthless, mad Rebellion's arms. 
She fell, but fell with spirit truly Roman, 
To glut the vengeance of a rival woman : 
A woman, tho' the phrase may seem uncivil, 
As able and as cruel as the Devil ! 
One Douglas lives in Home's immortal page, 
But Douglasses were heroes every age : 
And tho' your fathers, prodigal of life, 
A Douglas followed to the martial strife, 
Perhaps if bowls row right, and right succeeds, 
Ye yet may follow where a Douglas leads ! 

As ye hae^ generous done, if a' the land 
Would take the muses' servants by the hand ; 
Not only here, but patronise, befriend them, 
And where ye justly can commend, commend them.: 
And aiblins,'* when they winna^ stand the test, 
Wink hard and say, the folks hae done their best ! 
Would a' the land do this, then I'll be caution 
Ye'll soon hae poets o' the Scottish nation, 

1 No(. 3 Have. 5 Will not. 

2 Many. -i Perhaps. 



ROBERT BURNS. 619 

Will gar^ Fame blaw^ until her trumpet crack, 
And warsle^ time an' lay him on his back ! 

For us, and for our stage should ony'' spier, 
" Whose aught* thae chiels maks** a' this bustle 

here !" 
My best leg foremost, I'll set up my brow, 
We have the honour to belong to you ! 
We're your ain^ bairns, e'en guide us as ye like, 
But, like good mithers* shore' before you strike. — 
And gratefu' still I hope ye'll ever find us. 
For a' the patronage and meikle kindness 
We've got frae^° a' professions, setts and ranks : 
God help us ! we're but poor — ye'se get but thanks. 

1 Make. 5 Who owns these fellows. 8 Mothers. 

2 Blow. 6 Makes all. 9 Warn. 

3 Wrestle. 7 Own children. 10 From. 

4 Any ask. 



EPITAPH ON JOHN DOVE. 

INN-KEEPER, MAUCHLINE. 
1. 

HERE lies Johnny Pidgeon, 

What was his religion, 

Whae'er* desires to ken,* 

To some other warP 

Maun'' follow the carl. 

For here Johnny Pidgeon had nane. 

2. 
Strong ale was ablution. 
Small beer persecution, 
A dram was momento mori; 
But a full flowing bowl 
Was the saving his soul. 
And port was celestial glory. 

1 Whoever. 3 World. 5 None. 

2- Blow. 4 Must. 



6£0 THE POETICAL WORKS 0¥ 



LINES 

Written on the back of a bank note, which came in the ordi- 
nary course of circulation into the hands of Mr. J. F. Gra- 
cie, Dumfries. The lines are evidently in Burns' hand 
writing-. 



WAE^ worth thy power, thou cursed leaf. 

Fell source o' a' my woe and grief; 

For lack o' thee I've lost my lass, 

For lack o' thee I scrimp my glass, 

I see the children of affliction 

Unaided, through thy cursed restriction. 

I've seen the oppressor's cruel smile 

Amid his hapless victims spoil : 

And for thy potence vainly wished. 

To crush the villain in the dust. 

For lack o' thee, I leave this much lov'd shore. 

Never, perhaps, to greet auld^ Scotland more. 

1 Woe be to. 2 Old. 



ON SEEING THE BEAUTIFUL SEAT OF 
LORD GALLOWAY. 

WHAT dost thou in that mansion fair ? 

Flit Galloway and find 
Some narrow, dirty, dungeon cave, 

The picture of thy mind ! 



ON THE SAME. 

NO Stewart art thou Galloway, 
The Ste vvarts all were brave ; 

Besides, the Stewarts were but Jbols, 
Not one of them a knave. 



ROBERT BURNS. 621 



ON THE SAME. 



BRIGHT ran thy line , O, Galloway, 
Thro' many a far fam'd sire ! 

So ran the far-fam'd Roman way, 
So ended in a mire. 



ON THE SAME. 

On the author being threatened with his resentment. 
SPARE me thy vengeance, Galloway, 



In quiet let me live : 
I ask no kindness at thy hand. 
For thou hast none to give. 



LINES 

Written on the blank leaf of a copy of Thomson's Musical 
Miscellany, presented by Burns to Miss Graham, of Fintra, 

1. 
HERE, where the Scottish Muse immortal lives. 

In sacred strains and tuneful numbers join'd, 
Accept the gift; tho' humble he who gives. 

Rich is the tribute of the grateful mind. 

2. 
So may no ruffian-feeling* in thy breast, 

Discordant jar thy bosom- chords among ; 
But peace attune thy gentle soul to rest. 

Or love ecstatic wake his seraph song. 

3. 
Or pity's notes, in luxury of tears, 

As modest want the tale of woe reveals ; 
While conscious virtue all the strain endears, 

And heaven-born piety her sanction seals. 

• It were to have been wished, that instead of ruffian-feeling, the bard had 
used a less rugged epithet, e. g. ruder. Ed. 



622 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

ELEGY ON PEG NICHOLSON, 

A Mare that belonged to Mr. W. Nicol, of Edinburgh j which 
died while under the Author's care. 

7\tne-~" Chevy Chace." 

1. 
PEG NICHOLSON was a good bay mare, 
As ever trode on aim :^ 
But now she's floating down the Nith, 
And past the mouth o' Cairn. 

2. 
Peg Nicholson was a good bay mare, 
And rode thro' thick and thin ; 
But now she's floating down the Nith, 
And wanting even the skin. 

3. 
Peg Nicholson was a good bay mare, 
And ance^ she bore a priest ; 
But now she's floating down the Nith, 
For Solway fish a feast. 

4. 
Peg Nicholson was a good bay mare, 
And the priest he rode her sair :^ 
And much oppressed and bruised she was ; 
— As priest-rid cattle are, &c. &;c. 

1 Iron, 2 Once. 5 Sore, 



EPITAPH. 

WHEN , deceased, to the devil went down, 

'Twas nothing would serve him but Satan's own 

crown : 
Thy fool's head, quoth Satan, that crown shall wear 

never, 
I grant thou'rt as wicked, but not quite so clever. 



,A,V, 



ROBERT BURNS. 623 

THE TREE OF LIBERTY. 

[This is the Poem which prevented the promotion of the 
Poet, to the Excise.] 

1. 
HEARD ye o' the tree o' France ? 

I vvatna^ what's the name o't; — 
Around it a' the Patriots dance ; 

WeeF Europe kens^ the fame o't : 
It stands whare"* ance the Bastile stood, 

A prison built by Kings, man, 
Where superstition's hellish brood 

Kept France in leading-strings, man. 

2. 
Upon this tree there grows sic* fruit, 

Its virtues a* can tell, man ; 
It raises man aboon® the brute, 

And bids him ken himseP, man. 
Gif ance the Peasant taste a bit, 

He's greater than a lord man ; 
And wi' the beggar shares a mite 

Of a' he can afford, man. 

3. 
Its fruit is worth all Asia's wealth ; — 

To sweeten life 'twas sent, man : 
To gie' man's face the blush o' health ; 

To gie his heart content, man ; 
It clears the e'en,^ it cheers the heart. 

Makes high and low guid'" friends, man : 
But he that acts the tyrant's part, 

It to perdition sends, man. 

4. 
My blessings aye attend the chiel,'^ 
That pitied Galli's slaves, man, 



1 Know not. 


5 Such. 


9 Eyes. 


2 Well. 


6 Above. 


10 Good, 


3 Knows. 


7 If. 


U Man. 


4 Where once. 


8 Give. 





624 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

And stole a twig, spite o' the de'il, 
Frae* yont the western wave, man. 

Fair virtue waterM it wi' care. 
And now she sees wi' pride, man, 

How weel it buds and blossoms there. 
Its branches spreading wide, man. 

5. 

But wicked tyrants hate to see 

The works o' virtue thrive, man ; 
The courtly vermin bann'd^ the tree. 

And grat' to see it thrive, man. 
King Loui' thought to cut it down, 

While it was yet but sma' man ; 
Its guardian genius crack'd his crowHj 

Took off his head, an' a', man ! 

6. 
A wicked crew syne* on a time 

Did swear a solemn aith' man : 
That it should ne'er bloom in its primcj, 

I wat" they pledg'd their faith, man, 
Awa' they gaed' wi' great parade, 

Like beagles hunting game, man. 
But soon grew weary o' the trade. 

And wish'd they'd staid at hame,* man. 

7. 
For Freedom, standing by her tree, 

Her sons did loudly ca', man ; 
S!ie sung a sang^ o' liberty, 

Which rous'd them ane'" an' a', man. 
By her inspired, the new born race 

Soon flash'd th' avenging steel, man, 
The hirelings ran — their foes gi'ed" chase. 

And bang'd the despots weel, man, 

1 From beyond, 5 Oath. 9 Song. 

2 Cursed. 6 Wot. 10 One and all, 

3 Wept. 7 W.nt. 11 Gave. 

4 Then. S Home, 



ROBERT BURNS. 625 

8. 
Let Britain boast her hardy oak, 

Her poplar and her pine, man ; 
Auld^ Scotland still can crack her joke, 

And owre^ her neighbours shine, man. 
But seek the forest round and round, 

And soon 'twill be agreed, man, 
That sic a tree can not be found, 

'Tvveen Lon'on and the Tweed, man. 

9. 
Without this tree, alake 1 this life, 

Is but a vale of woe, man ; 
A scene o' sorrow mixt wi' strife ; — 

Nae^ real joys we know, man. 
We labour soon, we labour late 

To feed the titled knave, man, 
And a' the comfort, we're to get. 

Is that ayont the grave, man. 

10. 
Wi' plenty o' sic trees, I trow, 

The warkl^ wad live in peace, man ; 
The svtords wad help to mak' a plough. 

The din o' war wad cease, man. 
Like brethren in a common cause. 

We'd on each other smile, man ; 
And equal rights and equal laws. 

Wad gladden ev'ry isle man. 

11. 

Wae* worth the loon wha wad na eat 

Sic halesome,^ dainty cheer, man ; 
I'd gie'' the shoon^ frae aff my feet, 

To taste sic fruit, I swear, man. 
Syne let us pray, auld England may 

Soon plant this far-famM tree, man ; 
Then blythe we'll sing and bless the day, 

Which gave us liberty, man. 



1 Old, 


4 World would. 


6 Wholesome. 


2 Over. 


5 Woe to the wretch 


7 Give. 


3 No. 


who would not. 
4 K 


8 Shoes from oft'. 



626 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

VERSES, 

Written at the time when about to leave Scotland. 

1. 
OE'R the mist-shrouded cliffs of the lone mountain 

straying, 
Where the vvild winds of winter incessantly rave, 
What woes wring my heart while intently surveying 
The storm's gloomy path on the breast of the wave. 

2. 
Ye foam-crested billows, allow me to wail, 
Ere ye toss me afar from ray lov'd native shore ; 
Where the flower which bloomed sweetest in Coila's 

green vale, 
The pride of my bosom, my Mary's no more. 

3. 
No more by the banks of the streamlet we'll wander, 
And smile at the moon's rimpled face in the wave ; 
No more shall my arms cling with fondness around 

her, 
For the dew drops of morning fall cold on her grave. 

4. 
No more shall the soft thrill of love warm my breast, 
I haste with the storm to a far distant shore ; 
Where unknown, unlamented, my ashes shall rest. 
And joy shall revisit my bosom no more. 



EPITAPH ON A NOISY POLEMIC. 

BELOW thir stanes lie Janiie's banes : 

O death, it's my opinion, 
Thou ne'er took such a bleth'rin b-tch 

Into thy dark dominion ! 



ROBERT BURNS. 627 



LINES WRO I E BY BURNS, 

While on his death bed, to John Rankin, esq. Ayrshire, and 
forwarded to him immediately after the Poet's death. 

HE who of Rankin sang, lies stiff and dead, 
And a green grassy hillock hides his head ; 
Alas ! alas ! a devilish change indeed ! 



POETICAL EPISTLE TO BURNS. 

£The following Lines were addressed to the Poet by the Rev. 
John Skinner, author of the popular song of Tullochgo- 
■nim ; and, it is hoped, they will be considered as an ac- 
ceptable addition to this publication.] 

1. 
O ! HAPPY hour for ever mair, 
That led my chill up Cha'mers'* stair, 
And gae him, what he values sair, 
Sae braw a skance, 
Of Ayrshire's dainty Poet there 
By lucky chance, 

2. 
Waes my auld heart I was na vvi' you, 
Tho' worth your while I couM na gie you, 
But sin I had na hap to see you 

Whan ye was North, 
Pm bauld to send my service to you 
Hyne o'er the Forth. 

3. 
Sae proud's I am that ye hae heard 
O' my attempts to be a Bard, 
And thinks my muse nae that ill fard : 

Seii o' your face ! 
I wad na wiss for mair revvard 

Than your good grace. 

* The printer of Uie Aberdeen Journal, in whose house Mr. SkinQer first 
saw Burns' Poems. 



628 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

4. 
Your bonny booky, line by line 
I've read, and think it freely fine ; 
Indeed I dare na ca't divine, 

As others mi^ht, 
For that, ye ken, frae pen like mine 
Wad no be right. 

5. 
But, by my sang, I dinna wonner 
That you've admirers mony hunner ; 
Let gowkit flieps pretend to scunner, 

And tak offence, 
Ye've naething said that looks like blunner 
To fovvk's o' sense. 

6. 
Your pauky " Dream" has humour in't 
I never saw the like in print : 
The birth-day Laurit durst na mint 

As ye hae dane, 
And yet there's nae a single hint 
Can be mista'en. 

7. 
Your " Mailie," and your guid " Auld Mare," 
And " Hallow-even's" funny cheer. 
There's nane that's read them, far or near, 

But reezes Robie, 
And thinks them as diverting gear 
As Yoric's Tobie. 

8. 
But, O ! the well-tauld " Cottar's Night" 
Is what gies me the maist delight : 
A piece sae finish'd, and sae tight, 
There's nane o's a' 
Cou'd preachment- timmer cleaner dight 
In kirk nor ha'. 

9. 
But what need this or that to name ? 
It's own'd by a' there's no a theme 
Ye tak in hand but's a' the same, 



ROBERT BURNS. 629 

And nae ane o' them 
But weel may challenge a' the fame 
That we can gie them. 

10. 
For me, I heartily allow you 
The wald o* praise sae justly due you ; 
And but a Plowman ! — Sail I true you ? 
Gin it be sae, 
A miracle I will avow you, 

Deny't wha may. 

11. 

What reeks a leash o' classic lare 
Thro' seven years and some guide mair, 
Whan plowman-lad, wi' nature bare, 

Sae far surpasses 
A' wi' can do wi' study sair 

To climb Parnassus. 

12. 
But, thanks to praise, ye'er i' your prime, 
And may chant on this lang, lang time ; 
For, let me tell you, 'tware a crime 

To haud your tongue, 
Wi' sic a knack's ye hae at rhyme, 

And you sae young. ^ 

13. 

Ye ken it's nae for ane like me 
To be so droll as ye can be ; 
But ony help that 1 can gie, 

Tho't be but sma,' 
Your least com-mand, I'se lat you see, 
Sail gar rae draw. 

14. 
An hour or twa, by hook or crook. 
And may be three, some crrow owk, 
That I can spare frae haly bulk, 

(For that's my hoppy,) 
I'll steal awa' to some by-neuk 

And crack wi' Robie. 



630 THE POETICAL WORKS OF 

15. 

Wad ye but only crack again, 
Just what ye like in ony strain, 
V\l tak it kind ; for to be plain, 

I do expect it ; 
And, mair than that, FU no be fain 

Gin ye neglect it. 

16. 
To Linshart, gin my hame ye spier, 
Whare I hae hefft near fifty year, 
'Twill come in course, ye need na fear ; 

The pain's weel kent ; 
And postage, be it cheap or dear, 
I'll pay content. 

17. 

Now after a', hae me exqueez'd 
For wishing nae to be refeez'd, 
I dinna covet to be reez'd, 

For this fiel lilt ; 
But, fiel or wise, gin ye be pleas'd, 

Ye'er welcome till't. 

18. 
Sae, scanty Plowman, fare ye weel : 
Lord bless ye lang wi' hae and hiel, 
And keep you ay the honest chiel 
That ye hae been ; 
Syne lift you to a better biel 

When this is dane ! 

P. S. This auld Scots muse I've courted lang, 
And spar'd nae pains to win her ; 
Dowf tho' I be in rustic sang, 
I'm no a late beginner. 

But now auld age taks dowie turns , 

Yet troth, as I'm a sinner, 
I'll ay be fond o' Robie Burns, 

While I can sign 

John Skinner. 



•^1 



ir©^ii^ 



As the whole of the Scottish words and phrases which occur 
throughout this work, have been fully explained in the foot 
notes ; it is deemed altogether useless to give a Glossary 
at the end, and especially as the work has increased far 
beyond our anticipated limits; — But as the following 
words refer to a Glossary for further explanation, it is 
here annexed : 

Branks, — A sort of bridle, often used by country people in 
riding. Instead of leather, it has on each side a piece of 
wood joined to a halter, to which a bit is sometimes added ; 
but more frequently a kind of wooden noose resembling 
a muzzle. 

Broose, To ride the Broose, — To run a race on horseback at 
a wedding, a custom still preserved in the country. Those 
who are at a wedding, especially the younger part of the 
company, who are conducting the bride from her own house 
to the bridegroom's, often set off", at full speed, for the lat- 
ter. This is called ridiyig the broose. He who reaches 
the house first is said to win broose. 

Kelpie, or Water-Kelpie, — The spirit of the waters, who, as 
is vulgarly believed, gives previous intimation of the de- 
struction of those who perish within its jurisdiction, by 
preternatural lights and noises, and even assists in drown- 
ing them. 

Spunhie, — The Ignus Fatus, supposed to be a spirit which 
deludes travellers off" their way unto dangerous mosses and 
pits for their destruction. 



THE END. 



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